


The Lion's Lamb:Book 3

by SweetSunnyRose



Series: The Lion's Lamb [1]
Category: Chronicles of Narnia (Movies), Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types, Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-26
Updated: 2015-03-31
Packaged: 2018-03-19 15:03:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3614322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetSunnyRose/pseuds/SweetSunnyRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“‘After which, we will have eternity.’ Then he raised her ringed hand and kissed the back of it tenderly.” They promised each other eternity. Little did they know that eternity would begin so soon. A.U. Edmund/OC.  Book Three, but first in the series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone. This is my first work posted here, but it is not my first work. Some of you may recognize this story from ff.net, if you do then please don't spoil the ending for those who don't. ;) 
> 
> You can find me on ff.net under the same penname. Hope you enjoy!

The Lion's Lamb

Book 3

Chapter  1

 

            Lysandra glanced at the strange time teller on the wall. It had been gifted to her and her father by their companions a few years back. She often marveled at how a simple object could track time so well, but then there were still _many_ objects in this world that she marveled in. The time teller’s face was simple, round and white with large black numbers, but the frame held a beauty which belonged to another world. Carved into the rich oak wood were images of hills and mountains, villages and castles, noble beasts and birds, and a Lamb and a Lion. Her companions said the strange time teller was called a clock. It was the first clock Lysandra or her father had ever owned.

            At the sound of bubbling, Lysandra turned her eyes from the clock on the wall to the boiling sauce over the fire. Again, this was a strange fire. It was not like the cooking fire pits of Hyrden, which were open fires. The contraption over which she now cooked contained the fire deep within. Where? Lysandra knew not. The contraption worked in two ways. Food could be placed on top to cook, or it could be placed within to cook. The top portion of the contraption had four small fire pits through which the fire would show, but when the inner portion was used the fire remained hidden. Her companions had told her the inner portion was called the oven, and the top portion was the stove.

            Lysandra was currently imploring the use of both portions of the cooking contraption. The boiling sauce which had directed her attention was on the stove. Lysandra stirred the sauce without much thought; cooking was second nature to her, which was a good thing, for Lysandra could not be bothered to think of things. Not today. Not when _he_ was returning to her. Lysandra smiled gleefully at the thought of seeing him soon and glanced at the promise of a future together around her finger; it was one of the few customs of his world that she had to learn. Surely if they were in Hyrden they would have been wed long ago, but life in Hyrden was different. Quite different.

            Suddenly the greeting bell tolled, signaling his arrival. Lysandra put down her stirring spoon to ready her welcome, while her father answered the door. She heard her father’s low gruff voice greet their guests warmly and she waited to hear _his_ response, for the timbre of his voice always brought a smile to her lips. Tonight was no different as her smile spread easily and her life essence warmed inside her. Her father’s voice slowly growing in volume told Lysandra they were coming to her. The older guest entered the room first. He was tall with blonde hair, blue eyes, and a noble face; he looked every bit the magnificent king Lysandra knew him to be. He smiled broadly upon seeing her, and Lysandra gave a deep curtsey as was her custom.

            “Welcome, Peter, to our home. I hope you find all you seek here pleasing,” Lysandra said humbly.

            “I am certain I will, Lysandra. Your excellence as hostess is only out shined by thy radiant beauty,” Peter replied as he took Lysandra’s hand and kissed the back of it softly.

            Lysandra then turned her eyes to the other guest. Though a bit taller, he was younger but no less noble in appearance than his brother. His dark eyes shined with a merriment that Lysandra knew must be reflected in her own eyes. His shoulders were squared, and a smile played upon his lips. Lysandra gave another deep curtsey, but when she arose she was greeted with a single flower, which she knew she could not refuse.

            “You bestow upon me, Edmund, gifts I do not deserve nor do I require,” she said.

            “I bestow upon thee, gifts you do deserve because my love for thee cannot be contained,” Edmund said before he closed the distance between them and gave a single kiss to Lysandra’s cheek.

            Lysandra felt rather than heard Peter’s dramatic sigh, and before he could comment on Lysandra and Edmund’s display of affection Lysandra stepped away from the youngest brother.

            “Evening meal is cooking. It should be ready by the time we are ready to eat,” she said as she pulled out a small glass vase to keep her flower.

            “What is for dinner?” Peter asked while Edmund sniffed the air around him.

            “It’s your Archen Roast!” Edmund declared confidently. “Am I right?”

            Lysandra smiled and replied, “Your nose does not deceive thee.”

            “Yes! I love your roast. Pete, you’ve never tasted anything like her Archen Roast. It’s so tender and succulent, a real prize.”

            “The Archen Roast has always been a favorite of mine too,” Lysandra’s father agreed in his deep voice.

            “Truly, Father?” Lysandra asked. The eldest man nodded in confirmation. “I was not aware.”

            Lysandra smiled in peaceful whimsy as her eyes took on a far off look, as though lost in another place and time.

            “Lysandra? Darling what’s wrong?” Edmund asked with concern when he saw the makings of tears in his betrothed’s eyes.

            Lysandra shook her head and the tears vanished. “It is nothing, my dear. The Archen Roast was always a favorite of mine and mother’s.”

            “It must run in the family, then,” Peter said with a small laugh.

            “I do not understand.”

            “It’s…” Peter began to explain, but then thought better of it when he recalled how much work explaining things of this world to Lysandra often entailed. “Never mind. It’s just a phrase we use in this world occasionally.”

            “But what does it mean?”

            “Now you’ve done it, Pete,” Edmund said with a chuckle at Lysandra’s profound curiosity.

            “Prithee, Peter, I wish to know. If I am to live in your world I must know all I can. Every day I must learn something I did not know the day before.”

            “Well, it’s all to do with science and biology, really,” Peter said. “For nearly a century now, scientists have been curious as to how certain traits seem to pass from parent to child. It has been known that a parent with one particular trait may pass it on to their child, but scientists want to know just how such a trait is passed and why sometimes it is passed and sometimes it is not. A century ago there was this chap by the name of Gregor Mendel, and he conducted this experiment on pea plants. He bred this pea plant with that pea plant and took note of the sort of pea plants they produced, and then he cross bred…”

            “Wait,” Lysandra said suddenly, cutting Peter off mid-sentence. “I crave thy mercy, Peter, but I—I think I have heard my fill. What know I of science? I have never had a need to know. I suppose there are just some things of this world I shall never understand. Like your science, or that fire pit, or just how a clock works.”

            Edmund chuckled again. “What Peter meant to say, Lysandra, is that some things are passed from one family member to another. Archen Roast was a favorite meal of your mother’s and of your father’s and now it is a favorite of yours.”

            “How does that explain you though?” Lysandra asked.

            “It doesn’t. Scientists don’t know everything; they just like to think they do.”

            “They know a good deal,” Peter said in a manner that contradicted what Edmund had said. “Though, sometimes what they know isn’t always used in the best of ways.”

            Suddenly his face grew very solemn and his eyes sad, as he too became lost in thoughts of another time. Edmund recognized too well the signs of a grave horror, and he knew he must find a way to bring Peter back to the present.

            “When did you become an expert in the science of traits?” Edmund asked teasingly. “Last I knew you were studying to be a doctor, not a scientist.”

            “Becoming a doctor requires knowing some science, Ed.”

            “The science of pea traits?”

            “No, but I was bored one day so I read a recent publishing on the matter. A few scientists are re-evaluating Mendel’s work, and some believe they are close to knowing the secret.”

            While Peter and Edmund continued on in conversation, Lysandra turned her attention back to cooking. She took a pot and placed several red potatoes into it. Then she added enough water to cover the potatoes. This was done using another modern marvel that somehow pumped the water for her. Once the pot was full of water and potatoes, Lysandra placed it over one of the vacant fire pits on the stove and lit the fire beneath. It wasn’t long after Lysandra slightly seasoned the stewing potatoes that she felt a gentle touch to her arms.

 

            Edmund placed his hands on Lysandra’s arms gently, so as not to frighten her. He knew she knew who it was, for he felt her body relax into his. He gently pulled her away from the stove and brushed aside some of her hair to whisper in her ear. When he did it sent vibrations through her whole body, and she shivered in pleasure.

            “Finally they have left,” Edmund whispered. “I did not think they would ever leave us be. Turn and face me, Lysandra, and let me greet thee the way I have longed to greet thee. It has been too long since I have tasted of thy lips.”

            Lysandra turned softly in Edmund’s embrace, and replied, “Then taste of them, milord, and take thy fill. Do so quickly, I pray thee, before my father or thy brother return hither.”

            Edmund’s hands nestled into Lysandra’s golden hair as his lips claimed their home, and Lysandra’s hands came to rest where they always did, at the base of his neck. The kiss, though soft and gentle, was full of urgent passion. Had her mother seen Lysandra kiss a man in such away she might be reminded of the shame that had once befallen her, and if her father were to see he would likely challenge the young king to a duel at once. It is impossible to say who would win such a duel, for the results were always varied; both king and soldier were trained and well practiced. Such a kiss as what passed between Edmund and Lysandra at that moment was one of the few foreign pleasures Lysandra allowed herself to indulge in. Some things could hardly be helped.

            Edmund pulled from the kiss only to return for another small one…and another, before placing a gentle kiss on Lysandra’s temple. After which his hands ran down her arms to grab her hands.

            “I have missed you, so very much,” he said softly.

            “And I you,” Lysandra replied.

            Edmund ran a finger over Lysandra’s hand containing her small engagement ring. “I have thought of a day.”

            “It is soon, I hope.”

            “The twenty-first of June, nineteen-fifty.”

            “The twenty-first of June? That is year away, Edmund.”

            “Ten months, actually.”

            “That is still not as soon as I would have hoped for.”

            “I know. And I know you would prefer tomorrow over waiting another ten months, but I do have a reason for choosing the twenty-first of June.”

            “You do nothing without reason, Edmund,” Lysandra remarked and Edmund smiled. “So, what is your reason for this?”

            Edmund’s smiled widened. “Seven years ago…or rather it will be eight years, on that very day, on the twenty-first of June nineteen-forty-two, we found each other in _this_ world, in the market of Cambridge we met. We had met before then, but I was a King of Narnia and you…you were a faithful follower of Aslan from Archenland, a young maiden trying only to save her friend and do the Lion’s bidding. We could not be together in that world, but in this world it is a different story. Aslan allowed you to journey into this world of your own will, but, whether you know it or not, He had you make the journey to Cambridge by _His_ will. And that is where we met again, on the twenty-first of June, nineteen-forty-two.

            “So, what say you, Lysandra Archlin…” Edmund paused and shook his head before beginning again. “What say you, Lysandra of Archenland, wilt thou join with me in marriage on the twenty-first of June, nineteen-fifty?”

            “Sixteen. That is the age at which most Archen maidens were wed, and that is the age at which I knew. You knew it not at that age, but I did. I have waited to join with thee in union for six years, Edmund. What matter to me will another ten months be?” Lysandra smiled tearfully. “For after which…”

            Lysandra could not find the voice to continue, but Edmund finished for her. “After which, we will have eternity.” Then he raised her ringed hand and kissed the back of it tenderly.

            “We will have eternity,” Lysandra whispered in agreement.

            Edmund smiled and leaned forward to claim another kiss from Lysandra’s lips. This kiss could not proceed as the one before, for the greeting bell gave another ring as more guests arrived for the dinner. Edmund gave a disgruntled sigh at the interruption, for as free as Lysandra was with her kisses she reserved them solely for Edmund’s viewing. Lysandra too seemed a bit disappointed at the interrupting bell, that is, until she heard the voice of the latest arrival. There was only one person who could have possibly interrupted Lysandra’s time with Edmund and not received any negative fallout for it.

            “Lucy!” Lysandra exclaimed as the youngest Pevensie sibling entered into the kitchen. Lysandra quickly left the warmth of Edmund’s hold to embrace her oldest friend of this world.

            “Lys! How are you?” Lucy asked while still hugging Lysandra.

            “I am well, and you?”

            “Tired, but excited. Very excited. I love these dinners. Now how can I help?”

            “Oh Lucy, that is not necessary. You are a guest in my house…”

            “Lys, please, let’s not go through this again. I volunteer to help out, you deny my help, and then I find some way to help anyway. Just keep it simple and tell me what I can do.”

            Lysandra sighed. “I need some shredded cheese for the potatoes.”

            “Then the cheese shall be shredded, my good lady. Oh! hello Edmund,” Lucy said as though just seeing her brother.

            “Hello Lucy,” Edmund replied wryly, for he caught a glimpse of a precarious gleam in her eyes. “You claim to be tried and yet I find you to be rather chipper. Wherefore?”

            “Oh, Ed.” Lucy brushed off his prying question and offered one of her own. “Don’t you have something to do?”

            Edmund scrunched up his face as though deep in thought. Then, with a big smile, he said, “No, I’m good to stay here.”

            “Are you certain, because I think Peter could use your help in the other room?”

            “Pete’s a grown man. He has it sorted.”

            “Edmund,” Lucy huffed.

            “Lu, I just returned from London. I haven’t seen her in four weeks.”

            “You’re marrying the girl, Edmund. You’ll have every day to be with her.”

            “Lucy.”

            “Edmund.”

            The youngest Pevensies traded glares before turning their eyes to Lysandra, leaving the decision to her. She looked back and forth between the two. She never really liked being put in the middle, but it had been a rather regular occurrence for the past seven years. It always seemed a question of who would occupy her time: her best friend, or her betrothed? Lysandra refused to choose as often as she could, and as such the three of them spent most of their time together. Occasionally though, a choice would have to be made. This was one of those times.

            Lysandra sighed. “Ed,” she began but paused when she saw his head drop in defeat. “What?”

            “You only call me ‘Ed’ when you side with her.”

            “That’s not…” Lysandra began to refute but decided otherwise when she saw Edmund’s face. “We won’t be long; we promise. Right, Lucy?”

            “I make no such promise,” Lucy disagreed.

            “Lucy,” Lysandra said in warning.

            “I’ll do the best I can,” Lucy replied with a sigh.

            “Alright, I’m leaving,” Edmund consented unwillingly.”But first…”

            Edmund left the counter he was leaning against and once again he closed the distance between himself and Lysandra. He placed one hand on her waist and with the other he cupped her cheek. Lysandra lightly placed her hands on each of his arms. Lucy, knowing full well how Lysandra felt about displaying affection, politely turned her head away and pretended she could neither see nor hear what was being exchanged.

            “Please, Lysandra, don’t feel like you have to stay in the kitchen the whole time. Lucy can handle things in here for awhile, if you feel the need to…say hello once more.” Edmund smirked as he thought back to their earlier greeting.

            Lysandra smiled too. “You fill my head with tempting thoughts, milord, thoughts which are hardly appropriate for an un-wed maiden.”

            “My apologies, milady, but I cannot say that I did not do all that I intended.”

            “Oh, Edmund. Why dost thou play with the strings of my heart in such a way?”

            “Because thou hast played with mine in a manner likewise. You know how you may find me. Please do not be long, for I long to greet the some more.” He kissed her lips softly. “I love you.”

            “And I love you.”

            With another sweet kiss, Edmund left the kitchen.

            Lysandra watched Edmund leave sadly. “I do not like doing that to him, Lucy. Your news better be worth it.”

            “Isn’t it always?”

            Lysandra did not reply, she just continued to stare at the spot where Edmund had been last.

            “There’s a boy,” Lucy said.

            “Oh?” Lysandra looked quickly to her friend who was smiling gleefully. “Edmund nor Peter made any mention of a boy.”

            “That’s because neither Peter nor Edmund know there’s a boy.”

            “What’s this about a boy?” a new voice asked suddenly; neither Lucy nor Lysandra had seen her enter.

            “Jill!” Lucy exclaimed. Jill was the youngest of the gathering group, and though she was not technically family, Lucy had treated her as a sister since meeting her. “You’re just in time. Now I won’t have to say it twice. Quickly, close the door.”

            “Lucy has a boy; I had to send mine away to be told so,” Lysandra said once the door was shut.

            “Ooh, a boy?” Jill asked excited.

            “I don’t _have_ a boy, Lysandra. I just said there _was_ a boy.”

            “Well, what’s he like? What’s his name? Do you even know his name? And where did you meet him?” Jill asked.

            “Yes I know his name, it’s John Clarke, and he is very…chivalrous, I would say. I met him at Brookfields Hospital where I do my rounds; his father is a patient there. He’s a sweet old man who likes for me to sit at his bedside and read passages from the Bible for him. He was at University—John, not his father—studying theology, but he had to drop out when his father fell ill because he had to take over the family business to pay the medical bills. It’s a small book store on Cherry Hinton. I went in there once after a round; it’s rather quaint.”

            “Mm-Hmm, that all sounds nice. So how many dates have you been on?” Jill asked.

            “Technically, none, yet. We’ve only had lunch together a few times. But he’s asked to take me to dinner next week, and I said yes.”

            “And your brothers don’t know, do they?” Jill deduced.

            “Of course not, because if they did they would want to meet him straight away and they would expect a formal proposal for courtship. I’ll tell them eventually; I just don’t know if John is ready for such formality yet.”

            “A formal proposal for courtship? What’s that?”

            “It sounds like more than it actually is. The guy just has to ask the girl’s father—but in my case it would be Peter who would confer with Edmund before making a decision—for his permission to court his daughter.”

            “Edmund had to make a proposal to my father seven years ago after we returned from Narnia the last time,” Lysandra said.

            “Oh. Well that doesn’t sound so bad, Lucy. The way you made it sound, I thought he had to sign a formal contract or something,” Jill said jokingly.

            “Oh no. You don’t sign anything until the betrothal is made,” Lysandra said as she stirred the sauce a bit more.

            Jill laughed, but she was the only one. “Wait, you don’t mean…” she began when she saw the look on Lysandra’s face. “Edmund really had to sign a contract?”

            “Yes,” Lysandra replied simply. “I do not understand why that is surprising. That is the way it has always been in Hyrden, apparently it is the same in Narnia because father knew of it.”

            “So he really had to sign a contract to marry you? I’ve heard of signing a marriage license, but not a betrothal license.”

            “Yes, there will be that too at the wedding. There was also supposed to be a hefty exchange of gifts between Edmund and my father, but we waived that tradition since neither had live stock to give.”

            “Livestock?”

            “It was typically a lamb, a ewe lamb, in Hyrden. I don’t know what they traded in Narnia.”

            “There wasn’t usually a livestock exchange in Narnia,” Lucy said. “Not that I recall.”

            “I wish I could have lived in Narnia,” Jill said wishfully. “It sounds so different and so exciting. Instead, I’m stuck in boring London with relatives during the summer while Eustace is off exploring the world with his parents. They just got back from America this time. Even that sounds exciting.”

            “Well, next summer you will have to spend some time here in Cambridge,” Lysandra said in a matter-of-fact tone.

            “Why?”

            “Well, you’ll have to be around for the wedding of course.”

            Lucy gasped. “You’ve set a date? Oh please tell me you and Edmund have finally set a date.”

            Lysandra smiled and nodded her head in confirmation. “We have.”

            “When?” Jill asked.

            “We only just decided tonight.”

            “No, I mean, when’s the wedding? What’s the date?”

            “The twenty-first of June.” Lysandra looked to Lucy. “It’s the day we first met in the market of Cambridge.”

            “He remembers the day you first met in this world?” Lucy placed a hand over her heart. “Oh! That, brother of mine! He can be such a romantic, but you’d never know it by his demeanor.”

 

            Lysandra, Lucy and Jill remained in the kitchen talking and preparing dinner until the meal was nearly complete. As such, when Lysandra did leave the kitchen and came across Edmund as he was leaving the loo, there was no time left for an extra greeting. When she saw her betrothed in the hall, Lysandra smiled shamefully, but Edmund’s smile said he expected no less.

            “Did you not leave because you did not want to leave the cooking, or because you became engrossed in conversation?” he asked.

            “A little of both,” Lysandra admitted. “I’m sorry, Edmund. I did want to, but I…”

            “Do not apologize, Lysandra. If you were any different I would not love you as I do. Now, do you have a moment to welcome the rest of your guests, or must you return so soon?”

            “I have a moment, but it is a brief one.”

            “Then let us tarry no more.”

            Edmund held his arm up in offering to Lysandra, and she accepted with a smile as she tucked her hand under his arm. He led her back up the hall and into the room where the guests had all gathered. Apart from her father and Peter, there were three others in the room. Lysandra greeted first the eldest of them all, and the two original other-world travelers.

            “Lord Digory, Lady Polly, it is a pleasure as always.” Lysandra gently pulled her hand from Edmund’s arm and curtsied before her guests.

            “Nay, dear child,” the eldest, Digory, replied. “As always, the pleasure is ours.”

            “We are grateful in your willingness to host these dinners of ours each year,” Polly replied in a soft voice.

            “King Edmund has informed us that you have been at work preparing a most delectable roast for this evening.”

            “And we have all learned not to doubt King Edmund’s judgment, especially when it comes to food.”

            “Well I believe there are occasions when his judgment may be a bit biased, milady, such as when he is under the influence of food,” Lysandra said as she cast a small smile in Edmund’s direction. “I have yet to cook anything that his taste has disagreed with.”

            “Nevertheless, we hope that our arrival this evening has not been too much of a chore for thy fair hands,” Lord Digory replied.

            “Why! My good lord, ‘tis never a chore when one does what they love.”

            “Too right you are, Lysandra,” Digory replied with a chuckle. “Too right you are.”

            Lysandra exchanged a few parting words with the Lord Digory and Lady Polly, before turning to greet her final guest, a young man and a dear friend. Lysandra had met him years ago. He had been quite beastly then, but on their fated voyage Lysandra served as a witness to his great transformation. And he served as a great friend to the youngest Pevensies and Lysandra ever since.

            “Eustace, it is good to see you.”

            “And it is always good to see you, Lysandra,” the boy replied.

            “I must say, you are looking quite dapper tonight. Did the Americans teach you that?”

            “So you have heard of my summer adventures?”

            “In part. Jill was quite sad to be so lonesome this summer. I do hope you brought her back something nice.”

            “Has she not already told you of it?”

            “No, she made no mention of a gift.”

            “That is very much like her. She will complain but she will not boast. Have no fear, Lysandra; Jill has already received her gift, and now it is time for you to receive yours.” From within his breast pocket, Eustace pulled out a long and narrow box wrapped in brown paper and string, and he placed it in Lysandra’s hands.

            “You are too much like your cousin sometimes. I require no gift,” Lysandra said as she tried to hand the package back.

            Eustace pushed the box back into her hands. “In this world it is considered an offense if a gift is not well received.”

            “That is so unfair, Eustace,” Lysandra said, knowing full well that he only said that to make her take the gift.

            “Do you care to risk it?” Eustace replied with a small smile.

            Lysandra grasped the box with both of her hands. “Thank you, kind Sir. Your gifts, unnecessary as they may be, are well received,” she said through her teeth.

            “Would you cease being so snarky and open the box already?”

            “By the mane, Eustace! You seem more anxious for what’s in the box than Lysandra is,” Peter exclaimed.

            “Nay, good cousin. It is more to see her reaction to what’s in the box, than for what is actually in the box,” Eustace replied in a whisper.

            Suddenly there was a loud gasp and the gathered guests all turned their attention to the hostess. A large, pleased smile spread rapidly across Eustace’s face. Lying inside the narrow box was the single sprig of a plant with green leaves and plump red berries. Lysandra stared wide eyed at the sprig and, in particularly, the red berries. She held the box in one hand as though it were a precious child, while she placed the other hand over her heart. Though she remained staring at the sprig in the box her gaze turned distant and her eyes misted with unshed tears.

            “Surely mine eyes deceive me, for this…this cannot be…trilo-berry?” Her voice was soft and fragile, hardly even a whisper. At last her eyes lifted to meet Eustace in a questioning gaze as she waited for his confirmation.

            “In this world, it is called trilobata; however, many of the locals just called it sour berry. I wasn’t certain it was the same thing, though it looked just as you have so often described, but then the guide had the juice ready for us and that’s when I knew it could be nothing else. I knew I had to bring some back for you, even if it were but a small sprig.”

            “Oh, Eustace,” Lysandra gasped. “This has to be the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me.”  

            “Really? The sweetest?” Edmund asked in wonder. Lysandra merely ignored him.

            “To think, after all these years, a bit of home has found me at last. Thank you, Eustace,” Lysandra said earnestly before placing a soft kiss on his cheek. His cheeks flushed immensely at her touch and he ducked his head in an attempt to hide them.

            “Aww, it was nothing really,” he said as he shuffled his feet awkwardly.

            Lysandra giggled. “I will make some juice right away and you shall have the first glass.”

            “You…you don’t have to do that, Lysandra. You should save the juice for yourself.”

            “Nonsense. Tonight is a dinner to celebrate Narnia and all that it means to us. What better way to do that than to have a little trilo juice from Archenland?” Lysandra turned to address all the guests at that point. “The meal will be ready in five minutes. You can all make your way to the dining hall now as we prepare for its delivery.”

            With one more appreciative smile towards Eustace, Lysandra turned to leave but she stopped in the doorway. “Oh! And Edmund, if you must bestow them at all, these are the sort of gifts you should bestow upon me.” And then she did leave.

            Edmund turned his narrowed eyes to his younger cousin. “Thank you…Eustace,” he said bitterly.

            Eustace chuckled. “Don’t worry, mate, I’ve already planted a sprig in my mother’s garden. When it blooms, you’ll be the first to know.”

            Edmund’s narrowed eyes and bitterness gave way to a smile, and he said earnestly, “Thank you, Eustace.”

            “Well, we all heard Lysandra,” Peter spoke to the gathered guests. “Dinner is nearly ready. Let us all make our way to the dining hall and take our seats.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lysandra and her guests proceed with their dinner, where they are joined by an unexpected visitor.

The Lion's Lamb

Book 3

Chapter 2

 

            The roast was brought out and it was thoroughly enjoyed by all. It was as tender and succulent as Edmund raved, and ten times better than any expected for it was shared with friends. There were many other things shared amongst friends that night too, laughs and stories were only a few of them. After an hour of dining and laughing the plates were empty, the bellies were nearly full, and spirits were exuberant.

            “That was wonderful, Lysandra. Thank you,” Digory said as he sat away from his plate.

            “You are quite welcome, milord, but you must know that Lucy and Jill helped too.”

            “No we didn’t,” Jill quickly amended. “We mostly stood around and talked about…things.” She had nearly said boys but one sharp look from Lucy made her think twice.

            “Well ‘thank you’ to whoever is responsible,” Lysandra’s father said from beside her. “I do not think I could eat another bite.”

            “Oh but you must, Father. The meal is not quite over yet. There is still trilo juice to be had and Jill brought over a lovely platter of biscuits.”

            “Oh, yes!” Eustace exclaimed. “Her mother’s biscuits, how could I have forgotten?”

            “If you will excuse me for a moment please, I will be right out with our dessert.” Lysandra stood up and Edmund and the other boys quickly stood with her. They waited until she had left the room before sitting back down.

            “Actually Eustace, Mum didn’t make the biscuits this time. I did,” Jill said.

            Eustace turned his head to look at Jill, his face slightly pale. “Then please, Jill, tell me your mother gave you the recipe and you followed it exactly. You didn’t forget anything? Or add anything?”

            “I am perfectly capable of making a few biscuits, Eustace.”

            “It’s not a question of you being capable of _making_ biscuits; it’s a question of if you’re capable of making them _well_.”

            Jill’s lips formed a thin line. “What are you insinuating?”

            “I’m not insinuating anything. I’m saying it wouldn’t hurt you to spend a little time with Lysandra in the kitchen. Maybe she could show you a few things.”

            “Eustace, I would be very careful right now if I were you. You’re treading in shallow water my friend,” Edmund warned.

            “Oh no. It is far too late for that Edmund. He is not merely treading, he is drowning,” Jill said lowly; then, she stood calmly. “If you will excuse me, I’m going to go see if Lysandra needs help bringing out the dessert before I shove a particular person off a very high cliff.”

            “Edmund,” Lucy began with a small laugh once the boys had returned to their seats. “I think Eustace could use a few pointers on how to deal with girls. Perhaps you have a few secrets to share?”

            “I’m afraid I can’t help him, Lu,” Edmund replied. “You see, _if_ I knew the secret I would be happy to share. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, Eustace will just have to learn the hard way.”

            A moment later Lysandra and Jill returned. Jill carried her platter of biscuits and began going around the table allowing each guest to take what they wanted; she started at the head of the table where Peter sat and proceeded to his right to Polly. Meanwhile, Lysandra had a cart with enough glasses for all and a large pitcher of drink as red as wine, but, in Lysandra’s mind, far richer in taste. She poured first a glass for Digory, who sat on Peter’s left.

            “I thought I was to have the first glass,” Eustace said with a half tease.

            “You were,” Lysandra said as she handed the second glass to Polly. Her narrowed eyes fell briefly on Eustace before she began to pour a glass for Peter. “But then you showed your scales.”

            Eustace was confused for a moment before he realized what had happened. He looked quickly to Jill, who was placing a few biscuits on Lysandra’s plate. “You told on me.”

            Jill gave a small mischievous smile before holding the platter out for Lysandra’s father. “Perhaps next time you will think twice and choose your words more carefully.”

            Jill passed by the empty seat with the placing still set. There was one person missing from their group; she hadn’t attended a dinner in years, but still they left a place for her, hoping she would join them again one day. Jill came next to Eustace and held the platter out for him. He took a handful of biscuits and placed half on his plate and half on Jill’s empty plate to his right. Just as Jill was about to move on to Lucy, Eustace grabbed her free hand and held her back.

            “You’re right,” he said so that only she could hear. “I’m sorry, Jill. I didn’t mean to upset you. Please, forgive me.”

            Jill merely stared at Eustace for a moment, until she saw the earnestness in his eyes. She gave a small smile and even a smaller nod of her head before gently squeezing his hand. Eustace smiled instantly.

            “Lysandra,” Jill called as she moved on, and her young blonde friend looked up from pouring Edmund’s drink. Jill gave a small nod in Eustace’s direction and Lysandra smiled brightly knowing that he had made his amends.

            A little while later everyone had returned to their seats with wine glasses full of trilo juice and a plate of biscuits. The High King stood, with his glass in hand, to offer a simple toast.

            “To the friends of Narnia, and to the one whom we hope will soon be friend again,” Peter glanced briefly and sadly to the empty place directly in front of him. “To the land we love; to Narnia herself, and to her sister to the south, Archenland.” He smiled in Lysandra’s direction who gave a short nod of her appreciation. “To the hands which made the meal, however many they may be. And lastly, but mostly, to the one who brought us all here. To the one who brought us together. To the Lion and the Lamb. To Aslan.”

            Peter glanced to Edmund, and the younger king raised his glass and echoed words from long ago. “For Narnia, and for Aslan.”

            Together everyone repeated, “For Narnia, and for Aslan,” before raising their glasses and taking a sip.

            Lysandra closed her eyes as the glass and the red liquid reached her lips. At once she was swept away into another world. She stood once more on the wooden deck of a gilded ship with waves lapping at the side and the wind whipping through her hair. She sat once more on the back of a noble white stallion as the warm sun smiled down and touched her. And she ran barefoot once more through pastures of green with a laughing mother chasing after her. When she felt a tender kiss to the back of her left hand she opened her moistened eyes and turned them to her loving king.

            “It took you back, didn’t it?” he asked. “You saw the hills of Hyrden again, didn’t you?”

            Lysandra nodded slowly. “It was beautiful, Edmund. I even heard mother’s laughter.” Edmund smiled and kissed her hand again.

            Suddenly Jill gave a small yelp and leapt to her feet as she covered her mouth with her hands; Lucy and Eustace also quickly stood. Then simultaneously Polly took in a sharp breath, Digory made a sudden movement with his hand and knocked off his empty wine glass, Peter clenched his hand into a tight, white knuckled fist, and Edmund and Lysandra, with hands still clasped, looked over their shoulders. Lysandra made to her feet and Edmund quickly leapt up to stand in front of her; his hand reached to draw the sword that sat around his waist—if he only had a sword there to draw.

            Standing directly behind the spot where Edmund and Lysandra had been sitting, pressed against the wall as though he were somehow tied to it, was a man. He was a fair haired man around Peter’s age, perhaps a little older. He was dressed in a simple brown and gold hunting tunic with a forest green cape hanging over his right shoulder. His limbs and shoulders were broad with firm muscles, and his honest face held a small golden beard. His wide, blue eyes roamed over the whole room, but he remained silent.

            “Speak, if you are not a phantom or a dream,” Peter said in a calm but authoritative voice. “You have a Narnian look about you and we are the nine friends of Narnia. Speak.”

            The man, perhaps a bit startled, turned his eyes to Peter, recognizing that he was in charge, and opened his mouth as though to speak, but no sound came out. He repeated the action a few more times with the same result. Peter rose to his feet and spoke again.

            “Shadow or spirit or whatever you are, if you are from Narnia, I charge you in the name of Aslan, speak to me. I am Peter the High King.”

            Again the man opened his mouth as though to speak, but again there was no sound. Then, as suddenly as he seemed to appear he began to vanish. His image grew fainter and further away until it was gone entirely. Lucy and Jill both called attention to this phenomenon, but none could do anything to keep it from happening. When the strange man was gone the room was left in complete silence, and everyone remained staring at the spot where the man had been.

            “Why didn’t he speak?” Eustace asked.

            “I—I think he tired to,” Jill replied.

            “He was Narnian without question,” Lysandra’s father said.

            “Not just Narnian,” Lysandra said in a faint whisper. Edmund quickly turned to face her and placed a hand on each of her arms.

            “What do you mean, Lysandra?” he asked.

            “His face, it had the look of a king or else some other great royalty.”

            “Peter,” Lucy said calmly. Peter looked to his youngest sister. “Did you see how he stood?”

            Peter nodded his head slowly. “He looked as though he were restrained.”

            Lucy nodded in agreement. “And if we are all in one accord that he was Narnian, and perhaps even Narnian royalty, then one can only conclude that…”

            “That Narnia is in danger and in need of our help,” Edmund confirmed their fears.

            “We must begin planning his rescue at once,” Peter said, every bit the High King once again.

            Lysandra gave a small whimper as she dropped her head onto Edmund’s shoulder. “Lysandra?” he asked as he gently lifted her head again. Her face was pale and her cheeks were cool to the touch. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

            Lysandra did not answer.

            “She probably just needs to lie down for a bit,” Polly suggested. Lysandra nodded faintly. “I will take her, Young King. Come, child.” Polly gently wrapped an arm around Lysandra’s waist and tried to gently lead her away from Edmund, but he did not want to let her go.

            “I’ll go with you, Aunt Polly,” Jill said as she too came to help lead Lysandra away. Edmund reluctantly let his hands fall from hers, and he stared after them until they had left the room.

            “Ed,” Peter said calmly. Edmund closed his eyes for a brief moment before turning them to look at Peter. “She’ll be alright. You can go to her shortly, but there is work to be done now.”

            Edmund gave a short nod and turned his head to Lysandra’s father. “The sitting room,” he said not in question but in seeking affirmation. “We can discuss the issue better there, away from the area which is meant for dinning.” Edmund never did like to discuss business at the dinner table.

            Lysandra’s father bowed his head in agreement. “This way, my lords and lady.”

 

            Edmund walked to Lysandra’s room with anxious anticipation. He was eager to see her, eager to see that she was well that is, but he dreaded the news he had to deliver. They had been in council for well over an hour, the three monarchs, the two lords, and the soldier, and at last a decision had been reached. It was one that Lysandra certainly would not be pleased with, but it was the best one they could come up with. Edmund had hoped that in that hour Lysandra would have come around. He knew she would never come into the meeting, but he kept a careful ear out for any sign that she was clearing away the dishes; he knew she couldn’t let them sit for long. With every minute that went by and he did not hear her cleaning, his worry deepened.

            Edmund had a new respect for his old Lords of Narnia. Time and time again, while he reigned with his brother and sisters, he had seen the lords put duty first; they kept their heads in council and in war while their wives worried at home. Only now did Edmund fully appreciate how difficult that must have been. Edmund had courted or nearly courted one or two fair maidens before, both in Narnia and in his own world, but he had never cared for them even half as much as he cared for Lysandra. She was the light to his dark, the Archen winter to his Narnian summer, his better half. To put it simply she completed him. Without her, oh he would still live—perhaps—but he would surely not be the man he was. There wasn’t a day that went by where he did not bow his head and give thanks for the joy of simply knowing her, or of loving her.

            When Edmund reached her room at last the door was closed, so he knocked on it gently. Jill answered it and only opened it wide enough to stick her head out.

            “How is she?” Edmund asked.

            “She’s alright, I think. She’ll be better once she talks to you.”

            “Can I come in?”

            Jill nodded and stepped aside as she opened the door a little wider. Lysandra was propped up on her bed with her back against the head board. A cold wet cloth, at least Edmund assumed it was cold and wet, was pressed to her forehead. Her face was still mostly pale, but her cheeks had recovered some color. Polly was sitting on the edge of the bed softly reading to her from the Book of Psalms. Upon seeing him in the doorway, Lysandra sat up a little more and the cloth fell into her lap.

            “Edmund,” she whispered. He gave a small smile when he saw more color return to her cheeks by his mere presence. “Thank you, Aunt Polly, thank you Jill, for staying with me. But do you think…do you mind…I’d like to have a moment with Edmund now.”

            “Certainly, dear,” Polly said as she closed the Bible and placed it back on Lysandra’s beside table.

            “Jill,” Edmund said just before the young girl left. “Peter and Eustace would like to speak with you in the sitting room. They’ll tell you of the plan there.”

            Jill nodded and left, pulling the door to on her way out; she didn’t close it completely, but left a small crack, knowing how Lysandra’s father would feel if the door were completely closed. Once they were alone, Edmund instantly began sounding off questions.

            “What happened? Are you alright? Are you ill? How long have you been ill? Why didn’t you tell me sooner? What can I do to help?”

            “Edmund,’ Lysandra said gently, urging him to stop. “It’s alright. I am well. Please, come sit next to me.”

            Lysandra moved her legs over the side of the bed and Edmund hastily came and sat next to her on the edge. He took both of her hands in his and kissed them before holding them tightly.

            “You are not ill?” he asked.

            “No, though for a moment there I nearly was. I am sorry I made you worry.”

            “It’s ok; as long as you’re well, it’s ok. But what happened? Why did you suddenly become so pale?”

            “Edmund, I fear I’ve been keeping something from you,” Lysandra said shamefully before continuing quickly. “I have had this strange feeling for the past week. Something in me didn’t quite feel like it should. I have had a feeling very similar to this before. First on the morning in which we traveled back to Narnia, and then again around the time when Eustace and Jill traveled there. I was not alone for Father felt it too. We think it may be a bit of lingering magic; since we were both born of that world, perhaps somehow we are more sensitive to it. I have told you of that feeling before.”

            Edmund nodded his head. “Yes, I remember that.”

            “Well this feeling I’ve had recently, and Father too, is like that. Only this one does not fill me with hope and happiness as the other did. Instead I feel an awful fear as though the world was in great turmoil. I have fought against it desperately, knowing there was nothing I could do and because I knew you would soon be returning to me. I always feel much better when you’re around. When you are with me I can hardly find it possible to be sad or frightened over anything.”

            “So you have had a feeling all week that Narnia, and perhaps Archenland too, was in turmoil and now tonight has confirmed it, and that is what upset you so?” Edmund clarified and Lysandra nodded.      “But it’s alright now, because you are here and as I said with you near I find it impossible to fear.”

            Edmund hung his head low.

            “What is it, Edmund?”

            “We have made a decision.”

            Lysandra nodded. “I doubted you would come back without having done so.”

            “It was agreed upon almost at once that Eustace and Jill would have to be the ones to go. Out of all of us they are the youngest and they have never been told that they couldn’t return.”

            Lysandra nodded again.

            “The only question that remained was how to get them there. You can’t go just buy wanting to. Last time they went through a locked door, but they can’t very well go around trying to get through locked doors. That’s when Professor Kirke remembered the rings.”

            “What rings?”

            “When he and Aunt Polly went to Narnia they got there by a pair of magic rings that Digory’s uncle made. When they returned they buried the rings around a tree in the back garden of Digory’s old family house in London, which means we will have to go to London to get them. The house has since been sold to another family, so we will go in the early morning dressed as working men, so that if any may see us they will think we are there to work on the drains. We will dig up the rings and pass them off to Eustace and Jill.”

            “Edmund, you keep saying ‘we,’ but you have not yet told me who is going to London.” Lysandra, however, feared she already knew the answer. The look on Edmund’s face and his next words confirmed it.

            “Peter and I will go. We will leave in the morning.”

            Lysandra immediately began shaking her head in protest. “No. No you can’t go. You only just returned from London and you promised you would not have to leave again for quite some time. You promised, Edmund. You promised.”

            “I know, Lysandra, and I’m terribly sorry, but I must go. I made that promise before a Narnian appeared in your dining room and we before we knew Narnia was in trouble.”

            “It matters not,” Lysandra insisted stubbornly. “You made a promise not to leave and a promise is a promise.”

            “Lysandra, please, this situation is already difficult enough, don’t make it more so. There is simply no other way. I tired and I fought to find another way, but there isn’t one. I must go with Peter.”

            “No! I said.” Lysandra stood and walked away keeping her back to Edmund. “You cannot go, Edmund. Peter will have to do without you. You cannot leave me, Edmund. _I_ cannot do without you.”

            Then Lysandra began to weep, her shoulders shaking, and Edmund knew she was not refusing out of stubbornness; she was refusing out of fear. He sighed despondently and steadily made his way over to her. He placed a hand on each of her arms and pulled her back flush against his chest as he hugged her from behind. He kissed the exposed skin of her neck tenderly, and when he spoke to her again he spoke calmly and without anger.

            “Lysandra, I know you are frightened. I would say there is no need to fear, but I promised you I would never tell you a falsehood and that _is_ a promise I will not break. Not now. Not ever.”

            Lysandra continued to weep and Edmund began to rub his hands over her arms in comfort.

            “Lysandra, I need you to be the girl you were when we first met. I need you to be the girl who followed faithfully and blindly after a Lion she had never met. I need you to be the girl who risked all to save her friends. I need you to be the girl who gave up the only world she’d ever known to venture into the unknown with a father she’d only just met. Lysandra, you were so brave then, and I need you to be brave once more. Lysandra, I love you, and it’s because I love you that I need you to be brave. Please, Peter needs me for there to be any chance of success, but I cannot go without your acceptance.”

            Lysandra had stopped sobbing but she remained silent. After her extended silence, Edmund sighed in defeat and bowed his head.

            “I guess I’ll go talk to Peter then. I’ll tell him we have to figure something else out.” Edmund tried to pull his hands from Lysandra’s arms, but she quickly grabbed them and refused to let go. Edmund stood silently and waited for her say something.

            “I’ve been so foolish,” she whispered at last. It was so long before she said anything else that Edmund began to refute her.

            “Lysandra, that’s…” Lysandra turned quickly in his arms and Edmund stopped.

            “I’ve forgotten that you are not merely _my_ Edmund. You are Edmund…the Just, King of Narnia. And your country is calling for you. Of course you must go to her.” Lysandra slid her hands into Edmund’s hair behind his ears. “Go to London. Find the rings. And then…” she fought against her tears and Edmund pulled her closer so that their foreheads touched. “Then, you come home…to me. You come back to me, Edmund.”

            Edmund nodded and he too had to stave off tears as seeing Lysandra’s pain became too much to bear. “Yes…yes I will. Thank you, Lysandra, for understanding, and I’m so sorry to bring this upon you.”

            Edmund cupped her face in his hands and wiped away her falling tears. And then he kissed her. Strong and hard, he kissed her. He forced her back a few steps until she was pressed against the wall, and he kissed her still. One of his hands fell to the small of her back and he pulled her body into his, seemingly desperate to make them one person, while the other pushed against the wall. Lysandra returned his kiss with equal desperation. One of her hands clutched at his hair while the other curled around the back of his neck. They kissed as though never before. They kissed as though a very world depended on it. They kissed as though it would be their last. They kissed until their passion and love boiled over inside them, and then they kissed some more. All the while Lysandra’s tears continued to fall. They ran down her face and mingled with the kiss. They’d break for air briefly, and Edmund would kiss away her tears before seeking out and reclaiming her lips.

            When Lysandra could contain her grief no more, she broke from his lips and buried her face into the crook of his neck and wept for reasons she did not know. Edmund held her close and placed gentle kisses against her neck and shoulder.

 

            They all stayed together that night in the house of Lysandra and her father. Of course Lord Digory and Lady Polly were given the two beds, while the others settled for the couch and floor pallets. At first it was suggested that the boys go to Eustace’s place and the girl’s to Lucy’s, but Lysandra and Edmund could not be parted. In the end, with a bit of pushing away of the furniture, they all laid down together on the floor. Edmund and Lysandra were only an arm’s reach away.

            Edmund did not sleep much that night; rather, he stayed awake and watched Lysandra as she slept. Ever since her confession and break down, a deep dread had begun to grow inside him and he could not shake the feeling. He knew Lysandra too was stuck with the same feeling, even in her sleep. When her sleep became restless, Edmund reached out to touch her hand or stroke her hair. She became calm once more under his touch. Edmund vowed to himself that he would return to her then, and when he did, perhaps they would move up the wedding. How long did it take to plan one anyway? He would always remember the day they met again, so why wait?

He suddenly could not think of any real reason why they had waited so long to begin with, other than the fact that he had been at university studying law. She had waited patiently for him all this time, why should he make her wait anymore? He could hardly stand the wait himself. No. That was it. Once he returned from London, they would move the date of the wedding to as soon as possible, and he would give her what she’d always dreamed of: wifehood, and then one day, motherhood. Once he had decided it, Edmund could hardly contain his joy. He leaned over and placed a loving kiss to her temple. As a smile stretched across her face, Edmund settled back down and tried at last to get a bit of sleep.

 

            “Are you certain you don’t need an extra set of hands? I can be of service,” Eustace said the next morning. After waking early and having a small breakfast, the group of Narnian friends went down to the rail station together to see Peter and Edmund off.

            “Eustace, we’ve been over this,” Peter said with slight exasperation. Eustace had been asking to go since the plan was first made.

            “Pete, I’ll handle this; you go take care of our tickets,” Edmund told his brother. Peter nodded his head curtly and walked on. Edmund nodded to the rest of their companions for them to walk on as well before he turned to his cousin.

            “Edmund, I can help. You know I can,” Eustace insisted. “I think Jill and I should both come with you, that way we won’t have to wait for the rings at all.”

            Edmund put a hand on Eustace’s shoulder. “I know you can help, Eustace, and you make a fair point, but I don’t think Aunt Alberta would be pleased with you going down to London for an undisclosed amount of time so close to the start of school. Besides, I have something for you to do here while I’m gone.”

            “What is that?”

            “I need you to look after Lysandra. I know she’s in no danger of being harmed, but this whole situation has her terribly upset. I need you to stay and keep her happy. I need you to keep her smiling, because her tears pierce me like an arrow.”

            “Or...” Eustace began. “I could go with Peter and help him, and you could stay here with Lysandra and keep her happy. She’d much rather have you than me.”

            “You have no idea how tempting that offer is.”

Edmund turned his head to look across the distance at Lysandra. It was as though she felt the moment his eyes fell on her because she turned her head back to look at him. Their eyes met and Edmund could see the lingering tears. All of her pain from the night before washed over him again and he felt his resolve to go to London weaken. He was an instant from caving in when Eustace spoke up.

            “No, no you should go.”

While Edmund had been watching Lysandra, Eustace was watching him. He saw clearly how much he truly wanted to stay with his fiancé, but his sense of duty and loyalty to Narnia was pulling him away. He could almost see the battle to stay or go raging in his cousin’s mind. He knew Edmund was close to accepting his offer, but he also knew the affect that would have on him and Eustace couldn’t live with that or allow Edmund to live with it.

            Eustace placed a hand on his cousin’s shoulder and Edmund looked back at him. “You should go to London, Ed, and help Pete. Don’t worry about Lysandra, I’ll watch over her and keep her smiling.” The two boys shared a silent agreement before Eustace returned to the group and Lysandra began making her way over to Edmund.

            “Peter says the train leaves in ten minutes,” Lysandra said softly; Peter had returned to the group just before Lysandra had left.

            Edmund nodded his head. “Lysandra, I do wish none of this was happening.”

            “I know. So do I.”

            “I also wish to see a smile before I go,” Edmund added hopefully. Lysandra’s lips twitched as she did her best to smile, but it was small and feeble. “Perhaps not as strong as I would like, but I will take what I can get.”

            Edmund wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in for a tight embrace while Lysandra laid her head on his shoulder. “I love you, Lysandra. With all my heart, I love you, and I promise you, nothing will happen to me and I will return soon.”

            “Please, Edmund, don’t say the words I wish to hear simply because I wish to hear them and don’t make a promise you cannot guarantee to keep.”

            “Alright, how’s this then…?” Edmund pulled back and cupped Lysandra’s face in his hands. “I promise to love you always. No matter the time. No matter the distance. No matter the world. I will love you, Lysandra. I will love you.”

            “That, you can only promise if you truly mean it.”

            “Then that is, forevermore, my promise to you.”

Edmund pulled her face closer to his and kissed her forehead tenderly. He wanted a proper kiss more than anything, but he dared not go for her lips in public. Then he clasped her hand in his and led them back to the group. Over the next few moments the rest of the group said their farewells and Peter and Edmund gathered their bags and headed for the train. As Lysandra watched him leave she was once more filled with that awful feeling of dread and she could not contain it.

            “Edmund!” she called out tearfully just as he was about to board.

            Edmund glanced over his shoulder and after a moment’s hesitation Lysandra ran forward. He dropped his bags and embraced her as she threw her arms around his neck and planted her lips on his. For once she did not care that others may be watching. She did not care what her Father or her Mother might think. She loved Edmund, and she could not let him leave without one last, proper farewell kiss. Edmund did not question her actions; he only kissed her back. With that simple kiss they said everything they could not say aloud, and when they parted they said nothing. They only held each other for a second more before Edmund grabbed his bags and boarded the train to London.


	3. Cahpter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lysandra and company find themselves in a strange and yet familiar land.

The Lion's Lamb

Book 3

Chapter 3

 

            _Thwip. Whiz. Thud._

            Jill huffed.       

            “That was closer,” Lysandra said.

            “Perhaps, but it still missed,” Jill grumbled as she loaded another arrow into her crossbow and fired. It landed in the target next to the other arrow.

            “Don’t lift your shoulders, keep them relaxed, only angle your crossbow,” Lysandra said as she positioned Jill’s arms correctly. Lysandra loaded another arrow for Jill and a moment later the young archer released it. The arrow pierced the still air and lodged in the distant target just outside the epicenter.          Jill sighed. “That is better, but I still don’t understand why I’m not able to just use the longbow. I’m much better with a longbow.”

            “That is because you like its aim better and because it is more efficient.”

            “So why _am_ I training with a crossbow?”

            “The purpose of practice, Jill, is to improve your skill in an art which you do not already excel in.” Lysandra tried to keep the frustration out of her voice, but Jill still detected it. Jill knew part of it was caused by her but most was caused by something else entirely. She placed a hand on Lysandra’s arm in comfort.

            “I’m sure he’s alright, Lys.”

            Lysandra sighed and dropped her eyes to the ground. “It’s been four days, and we’ve heard nothing from them. I cannot help but fear that something has happened.”

            “Nothing’s happened, Lysandra. We would have heard if something had. Edmund and Peter are alright. He’ll come home to you soon. He is being well watched.” Jill gave Lysandra’s arm a gentle squeeze. Lysandra nodded and wiped the tears from her eyes.

            “You must continue your practice, Jill. We do not know how many years have passed in Narnia, and we do not know what weapons may be available. In the Golden Age the longbow was prominent, but as a Telmarine Caspian preferred the crossbow of his ancestors. When we sailed with him on the Eastern Sea only the Fauns and Dwarves used longbows anymore. You must be well versed in every weapon we can afford to train you in.”

            “Then I shouldn’t be wasting any more time, should I?” Jill quickly loaded another arrow and took her stance as Lysandra had instructed her.

            _Thwip. Whiz. Thud._

 

            Some time later Lysandra and Jill left the archery range and went inside her father’s training arena. The clash of swords met their ears before they even opened the door. Lysandra’s father was helping Eustace with his swordsmanship. She could tell by their shine that they were using real swords; her father only brought out the real swords when he had enough faith in his opponent’s skill. Lysandra and Jill hadn’t been watching long when the bout ended and the two fighters bowed to each other.

            “Are you well, Father?” Lysandra asked when she saw her father walk with a slight limp.

            “Well enough,” he replied gruffly but with a small smile. “The boy is stronger than I remember.”

            “Boy?” Eustace asked affronted.

            “Young Lord, my deepest apologies, Sire.”

            Eustace let his lips turn up in a smile. “All is well, Sir.”

            The four companions were relaxing with a cup of water and discussing a few points of their training when the doors flew open in a hurry.

            “Oh! Have I missed everything then?” Lucy exclaimed. She walked over, still wearing her nurse’s hat.

            “Not everything, cousin. I was just about to ask Lysandra if she wanted a go at a spar with me. You never know what sort of enemy I might face.”

            “I’ll spar with you, Eustace,” Lucy said.

“Maybe later, Lu; I’m asking Lysandra now. What say you?”

            Lysandra smiled faintly. “I suppose it won’t hurt.”

            Eustace set down his water and gathered his sword while Lysandra went to pick out hers. The two squared off in the middle of the arena, but before they began Lysandra’s father called out to her.

            “Try not to defeat him too quickly, Lysandra.” Lysandra’s faint smile spread quickly.

            Lysandra and Eustace bowed to each other and then the duel started with haste. Lysandra came on hard and fast, twirling her blade quickly and landing precise blows. For the first several minutes Eustace was strictly on the defense as Lysandra employed every tactic Edmund and her father had taught her. Eustace had been well trained too though, and it wasn’t too long before he was able to go on the offense. They had been dueling steadily for several minutes when another blade suddenly jumped between theirs and shielded Eustace’s attack on Lysandra.

            “Lucy? What are you doing?” Eustace asked as he looked on his cousin with wide eyes.

            Lucy smirked and pulled her blade out from between theirs. “You never know how many enemies you may have to fight at once, dear cousin.”

            Then she brought her blade down quickly and once more Eustace found himself on the defense as he fought against both Lucy and Lysandra. The three way duel carried on for a bit more until two more swords joined the fray. Jill jumped in to lend Eustace a hand while Lysandra’s father joined the opposing team.

            After many minutes the un-even duel ended with laughter and the clapping of backs. Then the five companions put away their weapons and made for home. It was not a long walk from the training grounds to Lysandra’s house, but it was just long enough that everyone was glad to be done walking by the time they reached it. Along the way, Lysandra hooked her arm through Eustace’s and laid her head on his shoulder. When he looked down at her in question, she simply smiled her thanks. Eustace needed no other confirmation that, for a moment at least, Lysandra was happy and free of her worries.

            When they reached the house at last, Eustace called attention to a piece of paper stuffed in the door frame. Lysandra removed the paper and scanned it quickly. At the first line her eyes swelled with tears and she lay her head back down. Eustace took the letter from her hands and read it quietly.

            “What is it?” Jill asked.

            “It’s from Peter and Ed,” Eustace replied. “They have the rings, all of them. We’re to meet them tomorrow by train, on our way to school.”

            “He’s coming home,” Lysandra whispered with tearful glee.

 

            Lysandra kept her hands in her lap as she spun her ring nervously about her finger and gritted her teeth and against the jostling. It wasn’t her first train ride, she had been on rides before when Edmund would come get her and take her to London, but it sure felt like the bumpiest. Lysandra didn’t think she would ever really get used to the feeling of riding a train. Even riding Béla for the first time hadn’t been as jostling as a train ride. All the bumps did little to quell the fear in her stomach. Since receiving word that Edmund’s quest was over and he would be returning soon, the dread that Lysandra had felt before his departure had not lessened. If anything, it had only increased; though, she mentioned this to none.

            The only thing that kept her tears of fear at bay was the knowledge that soon she would be seeing Edmund again. Soon she would feel his arms wrap around her. Soon she would hear his love as he whispered her favorite words. Soon she would taste his sweet kiss. Soon.

            “Lysandra,” Eustace’s soft call brought her out of her silent thoughts. “We’re nearing the depot; we should be upon it any moment now. Would you like to sit next to the window? Perhaps you can see Edmund waiting as we arrive.”

            Lysandra did not reply. She didn’t need to. Her anxious smile said it all. Eustace stood, holding on to the rail above him, and swapped seats with Lysandra. She placed her ringed hand on the glass and looked down the length of the train, as far as her eyes would let her. In the distance she saw the silhouette of a bustling train depot. She glanced back briefly at her fellow travelers. It was just the six of them: Eustace, Jill, Lucy, Digory, and Polly. Lysandra’s father had remained in Cambridge under her persuasion.

            _“I’ll be alright, Father. For you to go you would have to miss a whole day of lessons, and I know how you do enjoy them,” Lysandra said as she placed a hand on her father’s shoulder. “I’ll be with Eustace and Jill and Lucy the entire time, and after that, Peter and Edmund. I will be well protected. You need not worry about me, Father. Edmund and I will be together soon, and then all will be as it should.”_

__Lysandra's father never liked letting his only daughter go off alone, but he knew the day when she would belong to another was fast approaching. In the end he consented his release. “Go, my Daughter,” he said. “Be with the Kings and Queen. And may He be watching over you. Always.” Then he kissed her temple.__

 

            Lysandra looked back out the train window with a soft smile. The train depot was much closer now; she could even see people standing on the platform, and she squinted her eyes to search for Edmund. All of a sudden a deafening roar filled Lysandra’s ears and the train gave a great lurch forward, knocking everyone from their seats. As Lysandra fell to the floor she knocked her head on something hard. A searing pain soared through her body, and in her haze she saw the faint outline of a white Lamb. For the first time in over a week Lysandra felt no fear as she closed her eyes to darkness.

 

            Lysandra opened her eyes and had to blink in the bright light. She felt queer, but not in an alarming sort of way. She felt no pain from her fall and she had no ill feeling in the pit of her stomach. Rather, she felt as though everything that was wrong before had suddenly been made right again. When at last she could see around her, she did not see what she expected. Lysandra thought she would see the ceiling of the train car, or perhaps the wall or floor depending on how she lay. If not one of those, then perhaps she would see the walls of a healer’s rooms, but she did not see that either.

            She saw grass, and an open field. She saw trees, a clear blue sky and a bright warm sun. She saw a land she did not know, and yet she thought she might know it. She felt the sun’s warmth; it was strong but not overbearing. She heard only the still silence of the air around her, until…

            “Lysandra.” Edmund’s voice was soft but clear. Lysandra quickly spun over her shoulder and into his arms. Edmund embraced her briefly before pulling back. His hands patted her arms while his eyes roamed her face, looking for any injury. Lysandra did the same.

            “It’s alright, Edmund. I am well. And you?” Lysandra asked.

            “I feel…great,” he said. “I feel as though I have never felt better. Even my old rugby injury does not bother me.”

            Lysandra smiled in relief and pulled Edmund back to her as she hugged him once more. It was only then that she felt the soft velvet of his tunic and the hard underlining of chainmail. When she pulled back again her eyes found first the silver crown upon his head and next the sword strapped about his waist. Lysandra tried to take a step away, but Edmund held her fast by the arm.

            “You’re—you’re a king,” she whispered.

            Edmund chuckled softly. “And thou art a lady of the court.”

            Lysandra’s eyes narrowed in confusion, and Edmund lifted his eyes to the top of her head. She tentatively raised a hand to feel what he was looking at. To her astonishment she found a small tiara sitting upon her hair. She quickly dropped her hand back down to Edmund’s arm and grasped it firmly. Edmund smiled in amusement but said nothing. Lysandra slowly looked around at the others and found that Peter and Lucy were also dressed in their finest royal clothing and crowns. There were two others with them as well dressed just as nicely and with small crowns upon their heads. At first Lysandra did not know who they were, but when she noticed the woman’s twinkling eyes and heard the man’s booming laugh she knew at once she was looking at a younger Lady Polly and Lord Digory. Eustace and Jill however, were nowhere in sight.

            Edmund turned so that he stood beside Lysandra. His hand slid down her arm and his fingers interlaced with hers in a firm yet tender grasp. For a long while no one spoke as they came together and took in their surroundings. By the look of the sun it was an early to mid summer’s morning, but the weather was mild and comfortable. Any radiating heat that may have been felt was promptly cooled by the gentle breeze. There wasn’t a sound to be heard. The breeze did not rustle the leaves of the trees, and even as they walked their feet made no noise on the soft grass. They were in an open country with high mountains far off in the distance and a small grove of trees nearby. Closest to them, however, was an odd and queer thing. Just a few yards from them stood a rough wooden door and its frame.

            The door stood alone. There were no walls, no roof, no floor attached to it. It was just simply a door. It attracted their attention and fascination almost at once. Peter glanced warily to his brother who turned and gave the slightest of nods to Digory. Edmund slipped his hand from Lysandra’s with a gentle squeeze and approached the door with Peter; Digory, meanwhile, drew closer to the girls and stood slightly before them with his sword drawn. Peter and Edmund each drew their sword as well. Peter stood before the door poised for attack while Edmund readied his hand on the knob. Upon Peter’s signal, a barely discernible nod, Edmund turned the knob and pushed.

            The door did not budge.

            Edmund tried again, but still it would not open. Peter lowered his sword and approached the door in two swift steps. He tried opening it himself, but he fared no better than Edmund had. Curious, the two brothers each looked around a side of the frame. They walked around and found only the same country land that they had been in before. They stood on the same grass, under the same sun, and they felt the same air. Doubting anything would come of it, Peter reached out a hand and pulled on the door.

            The door swung open with ease.

            Peter and Edmund jumped back and quickly raised their swords, but all they saw through the door were Digory, Polly, Lucy, and Lysandra, the latter of whom traded a small smile with the other two girls. Peter, having seen a door similar to this before—one that appeared to lead from nowhere to nowhere but in actuality led from one world to another—looked around him and picked up a small, stray stone. He tossed it through the doorway and it landed in the grass on the other side. Peter looked to his brother and Edmund nodded; they needed no words to communicate. Edmund latched firmly on to Peter’s arm and braced himself against the door, ready to pull back at a moment’s notice. Peter took a few hesitant, but bold, steps forward until at last he and Edmund both walked through the door.

            They passed from one side to the other, but they remained in the same grassy country. Edmund shrugged. Perhaps it was just a door that led from nowhere to nowhere. Peter reached back and pulled the door to, not knowing why he did so. Just before he turned away, Peter caught a glimpse of something through a small hole in the door and he leaned in for a closer inspection. He was looking out into a grassy area, much what like stood on the other side of the frame, but it was different. The sky through the hole was much darker, almost storm-like or dusk-like, and there were many more trees. Before the trees there was a large circle of piled wood as though set for a bonfire. Peter clasped Edmund on the shoulder as he walked away and pulled him back. Peter gestured towards the hole and Edmund peered through.

            “It appears the door does lead somewhere,” Edmund said and he continued to look through the hole.

            “So it would seem,” Peter replied.

            Edmund stepped away from the door and sheathed his sword. “Well, wherever it leads, I don’t think we’ll be getting through.”

            “No. We shall only travel there if it is the Lion’s will,” Lysandra said. “For now, He has sent us here, and we must be content with that.”

            “And so I shall be content.” Edmund walked briskly back to the group and took Lysandra in his arms. She let out a shocking laugh as he held her close and pressed his forehead against hers.

            And thus their waiting began.

 

            They waited for what they all thought might be a long time, but none of them really knew how much time had passed. They talked in quiet whispers, recalling their old adventures in Narnia or wondering aloud what Jill and Eustace might be doing at that moment. None of them questioned where Jill and Eustace might be, because they all knew the two of them had been called to Narnia by Aslan’s bidding. All the while as they waited, Edmund kept a firm hold on Lysandra, either by grasping her hand or placing an arm around her waist (which he did more often than not), so as to keep her close and to not be separated from her again. Occasionally, when he was certain no one was watching, he would bring the back of her hand to his lips or bring his lips to her cheek in a chaste kiss. Each time he did, Lysandra would turn her eyes to him and smile her thanks, and Edmund thought there was no greater reward.

            Then suddenly something began to happen. They heard scraping against the wooden door, as though a bolt was being drawn, and the door began to open. They all leapt to their feet, and Edmund pulled Lysandra behind his body shielding her from any potential danger while keeping his hand on her waist. As the door opened they craned their necks to see through, but all they glimpsed was darkness for the door was shut just as suddenly as it had opened. At the sight of who stood before them, the boys promptly drew their swords and prepared for an oncoming attack.

            There, standing just to the left of the door, was a single Calormene soldier with his naked curved blade resting on his right shoulder. The boys waited, poised for the attack that was sure to come but never did. Peter gave another wary glance to Edmund, and together they began to move forward cautiously; Edmund left Lysandra reluctantly, but she did not protest his departure. Still the Calormene took no notice of them, even when they called to him he seemed to not hear them. Queen Lucy approached him next, but he took no notice of her either. They called to him, they stood next to him, they waved their hands in front of his face, but he made no movement.

            “I think he neither hears nor sees us,” Lucy said.

            “Neither does he seem to see this place,” Edmund pointed out, noticing that the Calormene never even looked around at his beautiful surroundings.

            “I wonder then, what does he see?” Peter contemplated.

            No one had any answer for this, so quietly the three Sovereigns returned to the group. With the Calormene soldier standing so nearby, the kings opted not to put away their swords. Edmund resumed his protective stance and hold on Lysandra; long ago he had vowed to protect her with his life, and he intended to live up to that even now. After what they supposed was another long wait they heard the bolt being drawn again and Peter and Edmund prepared their swords.

            Suddenly, without any knowing where it came from, there stood a great and hideous creature before them. It was grey and wispy, almost like smoke, and it smelled of a foul corpse. It had four long arms and a curved and pointed beak. Lysandra took one glimpse at it and gave a small yelp before covering her now pale face with her hands. The others too had faces that had gone suddenly taut and pale. Within seconds of the Beast appearing a large orange Cat walked through the door. At the sight of the creature it gave a loud hiss and scrambled for its life back through the door. The Beast leapt at the Cat and only just missed it; its beak slammed against the closed door. The Calormene saw the Beast as well and he fell flat on his face before it, but the Beast paid him no mind and vanished.

            “What was that?” Polly asked.

            “It was Tash, the Calormene god,” Peter replied solemnly.

            Edmund turned to Lysandra and took her in his arms. “Are you alright?”

            “I am well,” Lysandra said with a weak nod, but she curled into his embrace and sought his comfort all the same.

            There was another long wait before the door opened for a third time. In walked a young Calormene Officer. The Calormene standing guard at the door was startled to see his own kinsmen, and his hesitation to strike allowed the younger Calormene time to draw his sword. The two fought until the younger killed the sentry and flung his body through the door. The young Calormene then turned his wide, astonished eyes to the grass and sky around him and the six nobles before him.

            “Hello? Can you see us?” Lucy asked.

            “Verily, my good lady. Why would I not see thee?” he asked, his voice light and dream-like as he took in his surroundings.

            “Your comrade could neither see us nor this place,” Edmund said.

            “He was no comrade of mine, Sire.”

            “Please, won’t you tell us, what’s happening on the other side of the door? What’s happening in Narnia?” Lucy asked, for she was now certain that Narnia lay just beyond the door.

            “Tash. Where is Tash?” The Calormene asked as he began to walk past them and further in. “I have come to see Tash. I must go to him.”

            “Please, wait! Narnia? What about Narnia?” Lucy called, but he did not reply.

            “Peace, Lucy,” Peter said in a comforting tone.

            They waited again, but not so long as before, until the door opened once more. A monkey, garbed in the most ridiculous assortment of human clothing, was flung through the doorway and the door was slammed shut behind him. Tash appeared as suddenly as he had when the cat entered, and Lysandra cringed and buried her face in Edmund’s neck. The monkey gave an awful squeal and tried to scramble back out, but before he could move from his spot Tash opened his great bird mouth and pecked at him. The earth shook and with a flash of blinding blue light the monkey was gone. Tash gave a mighty croak as he swallowed his prey, and then he vanished.

            Everyone was too stunned to say anything, but Lucy whimpered and turned into Peter’s chest. He wrapped an arm around her in comfort. Then they all waited for what was nearly their longest wait yet, only the first wait had been longer. When the door opened again the body of a boy was thrown in. He scrambled to his feet and to the door. He tried to open it, but just as it had been when Edmund and Peter tried, it was locked and would not budge.

            “No! Jill!” the boy shouted.

            “Eustace?” Lysandra asked and Eustace, for it was he, turned around to face the others. Just as they were dressed in fine Narnian clothing, so was he.

            “Oh, Eustace!” Lysandra said as she rushed forward and embraced him. He returned her embrace as though he were a bit startled to see her there. “You are well; I am so glad to see it. Where is Jill though?”

            “Jill? Jill!” He turned back towards the door. “Jill’s still out—” he paused as he looked around at the sky and trees “—or in the…Where’s the stable?” he asked quietly to himself.

            “What stable?” Lysandra asked.

            Eustace turned back to the group. “Where are we? What’s going on?”

            Peter chuckled. “We were rather hoping you could tell us.”

            “Did you make it to Narnia?” Lucy asked with a thrill of excitement in her voice.

            “Narnia? Narnia. Yes, Narnia, we did make it there. Aslan called us without the rings.”

            “Well what happened?” Peter asked.

            “Hang on a minute,” Eustace said but his tone was not cruel. “I’m trying to remember. It all seems so long ago now.” He looked around once more at the sky and the land around him, and he breathed in deeply the strong air.

            “The man from the vision, Eustace? Did you find him?” Edmund asked as Lysandra and Eustace made their way over to the group.

            “Yes. Tirian. His name is Tirian, and you were right Lysandra; he was a king. Tirian, seventh in descent from Rilian, King of Narnia…perhaps her last.”

            “What do you mean, her last?” Lucy asked sadly.

            “Well, there was this Ape…” Eustace began.

            He told them all about an Ape named Shift who found a lion’s skin one day and dressed it on the Donkey Puzzle. He pretended the Donkey in the lion skin was really Aslan so that he could make all the talking beasts do as he pleased. One day Shift fell in league with the Calormenes and agreed to sell the Narnians into slavery under the lion’s skin rouse, claiming it was Aslan’s will because He was very angry with all of them. The real Aslan had not been seen in Narnia for many, many years and so many of the Narnian’s were tricked into belief by this Ape.

            Tirian and his friend the unicorn Jewel refused to believe in such lies as the Ape was spreading, but when he spoke against the Ape, the Ape had him bound to a tree. Jill and Eustace arrived next to the tree and freed the King; then later they returned to Stable Hill to free Jewel and Puzzle the Donkey. They were on their way to Cair Paravel to meet Tirian’s army when they received news from the Eagle Farsight that the Cair had fallen to a fleet of Calormene ships and that his army laid dead. They at once decided to turn and march on Stable Hill, hoping to gain as many Narnians to their side as they could and overthrow the vile Ape and his Calormene friend.

            “Oh, Aslan! Give us strength to bear such news!” Peter said after Eustace finished his tale.

            “But what of Archenland?” Lysandra asked. “Did none think to call for Anvard? We would have come to thy aid.”

            “There wasn’t any time,” Eustace replied. “Jill and I had not been in Narnia four nights before the fight on Stable Hill began. It was during the fight that I was thrown through the stable door and found myself in this place, amongst your company.”

            “But Archenland…”

            “Lysandra,” Edmund began cautiously, “Perhaps Archenland couldn’t have come. I fear to say it, but perhaps they were already fighting the Calormenes in their own land. The Calormenes could have marched on Archenland as they were attacking the Cair so as to prevent the Archens from coming to Tirian’s aid. It’s what any good strategist would have done. It’s what Peter and I would have done.”

            “You mean to say, that at this moment, Archenland could be…that she might be… Oh! I will not say the words!”

            Edmund squeezed her hand in comfort and Lysandra dropped her head onto his shoulder as she wept. At that moment the door began to open again and Lucy called attention to it. All but Lysandra turned to look. About a dozen small men, all bound together by their wrists, walked through, or rather they were pushed through.

“Narnian Dwarfs!” Lucy exclaimed.

            “I wouldn’t bother with _them_ , Lucy. The filthy swine,” Eustace sneered.

            “Oh don’t be so horrid, Eustace. They’re Narnians.”

            “They killed every last Talking Horse that was coming to fight alongside Tirian.”

            “If they were fighting for the Calormenes then why were they thrown through the door as well?” Digory asked.

            “Because they also fired upon the Calormenes. They took no side but their own. ‘The Dwarfs are for the Dwarfs’, so they kept saying.”

            “Well perhaps if you had only given them a chance…I ought to speak with them,” Lucy insisted before she walked over to where the Dwarfs sat, now free of their bonds. She tried and tried to make friends with them, but they would not have it. At last she returned to the group a bit saddened by her failure, but her mood quickly changed once she was away from the gloomy Dwarfs and with her friends again. Shortly after her return the door opened once more.

            “Jill!” Eustace exclaimed.

            “Eustace! Oh Eustace!” Jill replied They ran together and flung their arms around each other. “Oh! I was so worried when I saw them drag you off. Tirian, Jewel, and I all came after you, but… Oh, I’m sorry! We couldn’t get there fast enough. But you’re all right, aren’t you? You’re all right?”

            “Yes. Yes, I’m fine,” Eustace said with a slight laugh. He pulled back and kissed her forehead. “Look around you, Jill. We’re all fine.”

Jill did as he said and for the first time she seemed to notice her surroundings and the company in which she stood. She greeted them all with an honorable curtsey before hugging them dearly. Then, at their request, she filled them in on what had been happening since Eustace arrived. Not a moment more after she finished her tale, the door opened for the final time. They could see very little through the open doorway, but they heard the ringing of swords in battle and then a great shout.

            “Come in and meet Tash yourself!”

            Two grown men came through the door and the door was shut behind them. One was clearly Calormene by his skin and dress, but before they could determine who the other was, Tash stood between the new comers and them, obscuring their view. The Calormene gave a great wail and fell flat on his face before the beastly god. The other man stood his ground.

            “Thou hast called me into Narnia, Rishda Tarkaan. Here I am. What hast thou to say?” Tash asked, but the Calormene could not answer for all his fear. With a swift pounce Tash leapt forward and scooped Rishda Tarkaan up under his upper right arm. Then he turned his great vulture-like head to look on the other man. But Peter spoke from behind the beast, in a strong yet calm voice.

            “Begone, Monster, and take your lawful prey to your own place: in the name of Aslan and Aslan’s great Father the Emperor-over-the-Sea.”

            Tash vanished at once, taking the Calormene, Rishda Tarkaan, with him. With their way now clear they were free to look upon the other man. Though he was dressed differently—he no longer wore a brown and gold hunting tunic but the finest clothes fit for a grand feast at his castle Cair Paravel, complete with a golden circlet upon his head—they recognized him at once. It was the very man who had appeared before them a week ago while dining at Lysandra’s place. It was Tirian, the Last King of Narnia.


	4. Chapter4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Questions are answered, truths reveled, and old friends reunited.

The Lion's Lamb

Book 3

Chapter 4

 

            King Tirian turned to see who had spoken, who had sent the Beast away, and he found himself looking upon eight kings and queens. They were all dressed in crisp, fresh clothing and their crowns caught the sunlight spectacularly and shimmered. The kings wore fine Dwarvin mail under their tunics and had swords in hand. Tirian gave a courteous bow before them and just as he was about to speak the youngest queen gave a little laugh. He stared at her face for a moment and then gasped.

            It was Jill!

            Not Jill as he last remembered her, all battle wearied and dirty, it was Jill in a clean dress and with a clean face. Beside her, clasping one of her hands, was Eustace, but he too was as clean as Jill was now. Tirian at once felt great shame for coming before such nobility in his dirtied war clothes, all covered in mud, blood, and sweat. Then he realized that he was not in such clothing. He too was dressed in his royal garb, complete with a golden circlet, as though he were heading to a grand feast at Cair Paravel.

            Jill gave another small laugh before coming forward to take Tirian’s hand. “Sire, let me make you known to Peter the High King over all Kings in Narnia.”

            Tirian did not ask Jill which king was the High King, for he remembered Peter’s face from when he called out for help. Tirian walked over to where Peter stood and dropped to one knee before him. Then he kissed Peter’s signet ring.

            “It is well met, oh High King.”

            “Arise, Tirian, Aslan’s chosen King of Narnia,” Peter said as he helped Tirian to his feet. Then he chuckled and kissed Tirian on each cheek. “It is well met indeed. We have heard of your noble fight to save Narnia, and we must give our gratitude.”

            “I did not succeed, Sire. I lost in the end.”

            “But you fought until the end and your faith in Aslan did not waiver. For that you shall be rewarded greatly. Now, to the rest of our company.” Peter turned to the others and led Tirian over to Polly and Digory.

            “Sir, this is that Lady Polly who came into Narnia on the First Day, when Aslan made the trees grow and the Beasts talk. And this is the Lord Digory who was with her on that day.” Polly, Digory, and Tirian each exchanged what was a proper greeting for them. Then Peter and Tirian moved on to the others.

            “These are my siblings who reigned with me at Cair Paravel in Narnia’s Golden Age: my sister Queen Lucy and my bother King Edmund. And this is his betrothed, from the stories of King Caspian the Tenth, the Lady Lysandra of Archenland.” Tirian bowed before Lucy and Edmund and kissed Lysandra’s hand as she curtsied.

            “Sir,” Tirian began. “If I have read the chronicle aright, there should be another. Has not your Majesty two sisters? Where is Queen Susan?”

            “My sister Susan,” Peter paused gravely, “is no longer a friend of Narnia.”

            “Yes, and whenever you’ve tried to get her to come and talk about Narnia or do anything about Narnia, she says, ‘What wonderful memories you have! Fancy your still thinking about all those funny games we used to play when we were children,’” Eustace said, trying to imitate Susan’s voice, but not in a cruel or mocking way.

            “She thinks I am from an island in the south sea,” Lysandra added. “An _island_! From _their world_! ‘Tis true I lived there for a time. ‘Twas all right I suppose…for an island…but it was not Archenland, of that you can be sure. Why it was not even a Narnia!”

            “Oh, my sweet Lysandra. Always speaking as though Archenland were greater than Narnia,” Edmund said.

            “What?” asked Tirian with shock. “Even with her talking Beasts, and dancing Trees, and her golden beaches or glistening sea. Verily, milady, how can thou deny that Narnia is beautiful?”

            “Oh she is a beautiful land, I will allow you that, and her kindred are most well,” Lysandra said. “But you can keep your beaches and sea, Sire. I prefer the mountains of snow, and the valleys of sheep, and the greenest pastures, and…and all the trilo berry you can desire. Hast thou ever been at Anvard, my good King, after the first snow fell and seen the sun rise above the distant hills? It casts its light upon the whole country, and she glimmers a blazing white. Or hast though been in the grazing pastures of Hyrden, when the snow has melted and spring has sprung and watched the young lamb take its first breath of air and first steps?”

            “I cannot say that I have seen either of those, milady,” Tirian said with awe. “I have, however, been to Archenland in the heat of summer when the heat is that of a Narnian spring. She is a beautiful land. I must admit though, that I favor Narnia still.”

            Lysandra smiled. “Oh course you must, milord. I would think less of thee if thou favored another land over thine own.”

            “Well, now that _that_ is settled,” Peter said with a grin. “Look, here are lovely fruit trees. Let us taste of them.”

            Peter indicated to a small grove of trees just a few meters away. The trees were full and hearty and there were many fruits peeking out from under the leaves. There were golden fruits and yellow fruits, very distinct in their respective colors, and there were purple fruits and rich red fruits. They all walked slowly over to the grove of trees, not realizing how hungry they were until Peter mentioned eating. They each reached for the fruit they were most drawn to, but they paused before plucking it.

            “It’s all right,” Peter said. “I know what we’re all thinking—” they were thinking that the fruits were so beautiful that surely they weren’t meant for plucking by them. “But I’m sure, quite sure, we needn’t,” Peter continued.

            “Yes…I think you’re right, Peter,” Lysandra said as she plucked one of the purple fruits. “I have seen a fruit very similar to this one before. In a dream I had…long ago.”

            “Here goes then!” Eustace said as he plucked a yellow fruit and began eating without pause. They all soon followed his example.

 

            After they all had their fill of fruits, which were the sweetest, juiciest, most delicious fruits any of them had ever tasted, Eustace spoke again.

            “You haven’t yet told Jill and me how the six of you got here. You were just about to when Tirian arrived.

            “There’s not much to tell really,” Peter began. “Edmund and I were standing on the platform and we saw your train coming in. I remember thinking it was taking the bend far too fast and how funny it was that our people—I mean our Father and Mother, Edmund’s, Lucy’s, and mine—were likely on the same train; though Lucy didn’t know about it. I’m sorry Lu, but I’d only just heard that morning that they were going to Bristol. It was Edmund who said they’d likely be going by that train.”

            “And then what happened?” Jill asked.

            “Well, it’s not very easy to describe. Is it, Edmund?”

            “Not very, no,” Edmund replied. “It wasn’t at all like that other time when we were pulled out of our own world by Magic. There was a frightful roar and something hit me with a bang, but it didn’t hurt. And I felt not so much scared as—well, excited. I felt very light. And then—here we were, and there was Lysandra standing not two meters from me.”

            “It was much the same for us in the railway carriage,” Digory said. “Only I think you and I, Polly, chiefly felt that we’d been unstiffened. To be short, we stopped feeling old.”

            “Old indeed!” Jill exclaimed. “Why I don’t think you two are any older than we are here.”

            “Well if we aren’t, we have been,” Polly said.

            “I remember the roar,” Lysandra said, continuing. “And the jostle. I fell from my seat and bumped my head. Only for me, there was a very sharp pain; not too unlike being pierced by an arrow. But then…” she smiled brightly. “Then I saw the Lamb.”

            “Lamb, milady?” Tirian asked.

            Lysandra nodded. “Not any lamb of course, good King. _The_ Lamb. The Lion’s Lamb, who, on occasion, had a need to speak with me.”

            “Do you think then, that the roar we all heard was really Aslan calling for us?” Jill asked excitedly.

            “I—I don’t know, to be sure. It didn’t sound much like the Lion’s roar to me.”

            “I wouldn’t be so sure, Lysandra,” Polly said. “Certainly much of the roar was quite different, but if I try to remember hard enough I think I might have heard a faint whisper, or an echo rather, of the Lion’s roar.”

            “Well, now for another thing,” Eustace said. “What’s been happening here since you arrived? What have you been doing?”

            “For a long time—at least I suppose it was a long time—nothing at all happened and we only stood here talking,” Peter began. “Then the door opened…”

            “Door? What door?” Tirian asked.

            “The door you all came in—or came out by. Have you forgotten?”

            “But where is it?”

            “It’s just there,” Peter said pointing.

            Tirian looked to where Peter was pointing and saw the wooden door. He walked closer to it and everyone followed after him. He walked around all sides and, as Edmund and Peter had tried to do, he tried to open it but could not.

            “Fair, Sir, this is a great marvel,” Tirian exclaimed.

            “It is the door you came through with that Calormene five minutes ago,” Peter replied. “And it is the same door Jill and Eustace came through before that.”

            “But…did we not come in out of the wood into the stable? Whereas this seems to be a door leading from nowhere to nowhere.”

            “Ah!” said Peter. “It looks that way if you walk round it, but put your eye to the hole there and look through.”

            Tirian did as Peter suggested, and after his eyes adjusted he saw the dying glow of a bonfire, a dark wood, a night sky full of stars, and Calormenes moving about. He could hear their conversations as they neared the door; they were debating on whether or not they should go in and look for their Tarkaan or if they should just set fire to the stable. Tirian pulled back from the door and looked around again at the blue sky and bright sun in wonder.

            “It seems, then, that the stable seen from within and the stable seen from without are two different places,” Tirian said.

            “Yes,” Digory affirmed. “Its inside is bigger than its outside.”

            “In our world too, a stable once had something in it that was bigger than our whole world,” Lucy said, speaking for the first time since Tirian had arrived.

            Tirian marveled at her lilting voice and wished to hear her speak again, and so he said, “Of your courtesy, Madam, tell on. Tell me your whole adventure.”

            Lucy smiled warmly and obliged his request. She told him how they wondered over the door as he did, and how they too tried to open it but could not. She told him of the Calormene sentry who stood watch by the door and of the orange Cat and the first appearance of Tash. Then she told him about the entrance of the second Calormene and how he killed the first and threw his body out. All of this explained a great deal to Tirian, Eustace, and Jill. For they had been on the other side of the door when all this happened, and they had wondered what had made the Cat turn in fear and become dumb. And they had wondered how the body of a Calormene that was thrown out could be different than the Calormene they saw walk in. But when it came time to tell of the monkey and how Tash had appeared again and swallowed the monkey whole, Lucy could not go on and Edmund had to finish for her.

            “My sister is so tender-hearted she doesn’t like to think of any Narnians being harmed,” Edmund explained. “After that came Eustace, then about a dozen Dwarfs, and then Jill, and last of all yourself.”

            “I wish Tash would have eaten the Dwarfs too!” Eustace grumbled.

            “Oh stop it, Eustace!” Lucy said in a manner that was easy to see how she had been a Queen. “Will you come and see them, King Tirian? I’ve tried and tried to make friends with them myself. Perhaps you could do something with them.”

            “I can feel no great love for Dwarfs today,” Tirian said, but upon Lucy’s saddened eyes he quickly added, “Yet at your asking, Lady, I would do a greater thing than this.”

            They walked over to where the Dwarfs sat together in a tight circle. The Dwarfs did not walk about and neither did they look around at the sky. Rather they sat very silent and still as though they were blind and trying to listen very hard to determine what was going on around them. And very rightly they were blind. They could not see the sun or the trees. Neither could they see Lucy and Tirian as they stood next to them anymore than one Dwarf could see the Dwarfs who sat on either side of him. They could not feel the warm sun or the soft grass. Indeed, to the Dwarfs it was as though they were truly shut inside a dark and damp stable. When Lucy showed them flowers, they smelled only stable litter. When Tirian swung them around the open air, they bumped their heads on the stable walls.

            “Oh dear! What _are_ we to do for them?” Lucy asked.

            “Let ‘em alone,” Eustace replied simply.

            Suddenly from behind them there was a bright flash, the ground trembled, and the air grew sweeter. All but Tirian turned around quickly for they knew instantly what it was: The Great Lion Aslan had arrived. The Friends of Narnia fell in a half circle around the Lion and kissed His paws and hugged His neck. He gave them each a Lion’s kiss and said the words they longed to hear.

            “‘Well done, good and faithful servant.’” _ **[1]**_

            Then Aslan fixed His golden eyes on Tirian. Tirian walked over slowly, for seeing Aslan was the thing he feared the most and yet it was also his greatest desire. Tirian dropped to his knees before the Great Lion and bent his head down to touch his lips to His paws. Aslan returned the favor and kissed Tirian’s forehead. With tears shinning in his eyes, Tirian looked up as Aslan spoke to him.

            “Well done, last of the Kings of Narnia who stood firm at the darkest hour.”

            “Please, Aslan, is there anything that can be done for the Dwarfs?” Lucy asked.

            “My deer, sweet Lucy, no,” Aslan replied. “There is nothing I can do for them now. I could give them a grand feast, and they would only taste hay. I could give them sweet wine, and they would only taste dirty water. Their prison is only in their own minds, yet they are in that prison and so afraid of being taken in that they cannot be taken out. But come, my children, I have other work to do.”

            They all followed Aslan to the wooden door. He gave a great roar and said, “Now it is time!”

            “Time!” He said louder. And louder still, “TIME!”

            The door flew open.

 

            They all crowded around the open doorway, on Aslan’s right, and looked out into Narnia. The bonfire had long since burned out leaving everything in complete blackness. The trees before them were barely discernible against the night sky. Aslan roared again and far off to His left, deep in the high northern moors, there arose a dark figure. It was the figure of a large man, a huge giant of a man. Jill and Eustace looked at each other in wonder. They recalled seeing the man lying deep beneath the earth and in a deeper sleep on their journey to save Prince Rilian.

            The giant, his name had been Father Time while he slept, raised a horn to his mouth and blew; the sound, of a strange but deadly beauty, reached their ears a few moments later. Immediately the sky was full of shooting stars. There were so many it was like silver rain all around them. After a while there was another black shape directly above them in the sky. It, unlike the giant, had no particular shape but was shapeless.

            “Perhaps it’s a cloud,” Edmund whispered. He and Lysandra were standing so close he all but whispered it in her ear. Lysandra, though, was too mesmerized and focused on the falling stars to respond. The black shape grew and grew, spreading across the whole sky until the falling stars were only on the horizon.

            “No,” Lysandra whispered back finally. “It’s not a cloud. It’s…nothing, only emptiness.”

            “The stars are really falling from the sky then. Aslan’s calling them home,” Edmund replied in awe.

            Just as he spoke, with a small hiss and the scorching of grass, the stars landed around them. Those who had traveled with King Caspian X on his great sea voyage knew that the Stars of Narnia were as different from the stars of their world as the Talking Beasts were from the dumb beasts. The Stars of Narnia were people and as they landed on the Narnian country they flittered between Aslan and the on lookers to stand behind them and slightly to their right. The Star’s collective light illuminated the land.

            In the northern moors, by the Giant’s feet, a multitude of strange, winged creatures scampered down into Narnia and disappeared in the wood. For a moment there was nothing but silence. Then, from every direction, came the pattering of feet, the thunder of hooves, and the beating of wings. Rushing forth from the dark woods, and from across the Eastern Sea, and from over the southern slopes were all manners of beasts. There were Talking Beasts, Fauns, Dwarfs, and Centaurs. As each creature came to the door they looked into the face of Aslan. Those who loved Him went to His right and passed through the door. All the others became dumb beasts and swerved to Aslan’s left and disappeared into His shadow, never to be seen again. Creatures of Narnia were not the only things lining up outside the door. There were also Dryads, and Naiads, and…

            “Look!” Lysandra whispered with excitement. “Edmund, look! Archens!”

            “Are you sure, milady?” Tirian asked.

            “I would know an Archen by his look anywhere, King Tirian. They are my countrymen, and so many of them are passing through the door.”

            The Archens were not the only men and women to pass through. All the men, women, and children of Cair Paravel, Beaver’s Dam, Beruna, Calormen, and the islands near and far came forth to be judged by Aslan. When every last man and Beast had gone to its proper place, Narnia and its surrounding countries were left to the winged creatures of the moors. Those creatures tore up the grass and swallowed the trees until the land was left bare and rocky. Then the creatures lay down and died, becoming nothing more than dry bones.

            Then, again after another long pause where nothing seemed to be happening, they saw something white moving on the horizon. Soon after they heard a thundering roar, but it was not from Aslan. A white wall of foam lapped at the earth. Rivers grew wider and lakes became seas. Lysandra’s eyes grew wide and round, not with wonder though, and she gripped Edmund’s arm. He knew instantly what was wrong and he rubbed her hand in comfort.

            “Water? Why must it be water? And so much of it too,” she whispered in despair.

            When the water lapped at Aslan’s front paws the sun began to rise. The sun was very different than any other time they had seen it. It was very large, much larger than a sun should be, and very dark red. Only Digory and Polly understood what such a large, red sun meant. It was a dying sun. The moon also came out, very near the sun; she moved near and nearer to the sun until the sun swallowed her up.

            “Now, make an end,” Aslan said. The Giant tossed his horn into the sea, reached out a hand, and extinguished the sun with a squeeze. At once the air turned bitterly cold and everyone but Aslan shivered in the icy wind.

            “Peter, High King of Narnia, shut the Door.”

            Peter did as Aslan commanded. He pulled the door to and then pulled a golden key from the pocket of his clothes and locked it. The icy air was shut out and everyone looked around at the bright blue sky and the warm yellow sun. And when they looked to Aslan, they saw nothing but laughter in His eyes.

            “Come further in! Come further up!” He shouted over His shoulder as He ran off.

 

            The friends of Narnia and their new companions—while watching all the creatures pass through the door they were joined by Jewel the Unicorn, Poggin the Dwarf, Farsight the Eagle, and several good Dogs who had all fought alongside Tirian, Eustace, and Jill in the Last Battle—turned their backs to the door and began walking after Aslan. They were all quiet for some time; none of them knew what to say really. Lucy, Jill, and Lysandra all sniffled softly and dabbed at the tears falling from their eyes.

            “So, night falls on Narnia,” Peter said at last, very solemnly.

            “I saw her birth, I did not think I’d live to see her die,” Digory said.

            “What? You’re not crying, are you Lu?” Peter asked when his sister sniffled again.

            “I am. And do not try to stop me, Peter. I am sure Aslan would not. How can it be wrong to mourn for Narnia and all that lies dead and frozen behind that door?”

            “Yes,” agreed Lysandra. “And I was always so certain that I would see Archenland again, that I would again walk the pastures of Hyrden, or visit the sight of my mother’s grave…though by now it has surely been overrun by grass and flowers, and I would hardly know it from one gave or the other. And yet…” Lysandra let her voice fade into nothing, not quite knowing how to explain the hope that still lingered. Edmund said nothing to offer her comfort, but only held her hand a bit tighter as they walked on.

            “My fair ladies, I think it right to mourn. See, I do so myself,” Tirian said. “What world but Narnia have I ever known? It were no virtue, but great discourtesy, if we did not mourn.”

            And so they mourned for a bit, but they found they could not mourn long in that world. As their tears dried, they remembered and shared all the good times they had in Narnia. _“Peter, do you remember when we led the Western March against the remnants of Jadis’ army?”_ Edmund asked. Or, _“Edmund, do you recall our first voyage to the Lone Islands? Oh! how lovely Felimath was in the summer time!”_ Lucy said.

            “…so, mother took a handful of trilo leaves and stuffed it in his face. The man fell right to sleep…Mind you, he was very ill to begin with and he needed his sleep. I do say, that was the best night of sleep he ever received.” Lysandra finished her tale with a smile.

            “Ah, leaves of the trilo plant. I say a few of them would put to sleep any grown man, whether he was ill or not,” Tirian said.

            “Or an army of men if you had enough,” Peter added with a knowing smile to Lysandra. Her cheeks tinted a bit.

Tirian noticed the exchange and was certain there was story behind it, but before he could question it Jill asked, “You know of trilo berry?”

            “Oh, yes. There is…or was a bush of it growing in one of the gardens of Cair Paravel.”

            “Caspian must have had it planted after the castle’s completion. He said he would,” Lysandra said.

            “Wait! What’s that?” one of the Dogs who had joined them at the door asked as he sniffed the air.

            “Anyone knows what that smell is,” replied another Dog.

            “It can’t be. Here?” asked the first Dog.

            “What is it, cousins?” Peter asked.

            “A Calormene, Sire, just ahead.”

            “Lead us to him, please. Whether he meets us in peace or war, he shall be welcome.”

            They followed the Dogs on until they came across a young Calormene officer sitting under a tree. It was the second Calormene who had entered the door and slain the sentry. All appearances of war and fighting to the death had long since vanished from his demeanor. Now his scimitar and helmet lay on the grass beside him, and on his face there was nothing but serenity. When he saw the group of Narnians approaching he stood and bowed deeply.

            “Sir,” he said speaking to Peter. “I know not whether you are my friend or my foe, but I should count it my honor to have you for either.”

            “Sir, I do not know that there need be any war between us,” Peter replied.

            “We’ve all been sharing stories. Will you tell us yours?” Jill asked.

            The Calormene nodded and took his seat under the tree again. “Know, oh warlike kings and you, oh ladies whose beauty illuminates the universe, that I am Emeth, the seventh son of Harpa Tarkaan of the city Tehishbaan, westward beyond the desert…” he began once all had taken a seat under the tree.

            Emeth told his tale in true Calormene fashion; all Calormenes knew how to tell a good story. He told mostly of his travels into Narnia and how honored he was to learn he was to face them in battle for he had heard of their great marvels in war. And he told of how he was shamed to learn he was to come into Narnia in disguise and answer to an ape who thought he was a man. Emeth also made it a point to inform the Narnians that all his life he had served and sought after Tash and he hated the name Aslan. So when it became apparent that his captain, Rishda Tarkaan, did not believe in Tash and that Tash had truly arrived, Emeth knew he had to look upon His face, even though it meant death.

            When Emeth came into the stable, and after slaying the sentry who was in on the Tarkaan’s lies and no true follower of Tash, he found himself under the sun and thought he had come into Tash’s own country. So he set out to find Him. Along his traveling though, a great Lion came upon him. Emeth at once fell to his knees and bowed his head before the Lion believing death was sure to come for the Lion would know that he had served Tash and not Him. The Lion did not kill him though, but kissed his forehead. Here the Narnians listened with rapt attention.

            “…Then He said to me, ‘Child, all the service thou hast done to Tash, I account as service done to me. For I and he are of such different kinds that no service which is vile can be done to me, and none which is not vile can be done to him. Therefore if any man swear by Tash and keep his oath for the oath’s sake, it is by me that he has truly sworn, though he know it not, and it is I who reward him.’ ‘Yet I have been seeking Tash all my days,’ I replied. ‘Beloved,’ said the Glorious one, ‘unless thy desire had been for me thou wouldst not have sought so long and so truly. For all find what they truly seek.’”

            “Then,” Emeth continued, “The Lion’s breath fell on me, so sweet and so warm, and all my trembling and fear were gone. He made me rise to my feet and said that we would meet again, but that I must go further up and further in. Then He bound away in a flurry of gold, and I have been trying to find Him ever since. But this is the marvel of marvels, that _He_ called _me_ Beloved.”

            “A true marvel it is, my friend,” Edmund said. “None have ever earned such love, and yet He offers it to all.”

 

            After Emeth’s tale they all took a drink from spring beside the tree and set off walking once more, always in the direction they thought Aslan had run.

            “Lysandra, are you all right?” Edmund asked after awhile.

            “Yes, I am well,” Lysandra replied. Then a moment later she amended, “I’m sorry, Edmund, I should be truthful. I am troubled.”

            “Troubled? Why?”

            “It’s…well, it’s the mountains, they are very peculiar to me.”

            “Which mountains?” Jill asked.

            “Those mountains, the southern ones there,” Lysandra said as she pointed. “They are very peculiar to me. They are almost, not quite mind you, but _almost_ like the mountains of Archenland. You see the highest peak there, well, that almost could be Stormness Head. And west of there, that double peak, that is very much like…”

            “Like Mount Pire,” Edmund finished.

            “You see it too?”

            “Yes,” he said. “And between the two I see what could be the pass.”

            “Peculiar, yes? They are very alike, and yet very different too. The mountains of Archenland were never that blue, and those mountain there are taller and the distance between them greater than the ones of Archenland. Yet they are so alike they remind me of the ones I knew.”

            “I see what you mean,” Peter said. “Really, if I think about it, those western mountains over there are very much like the far western mountains that separated Narnia from the Western Wild.”

            “I do say, High King Peter, that those mountains are indeed very much like the western peaks I would see from the battlements of Cair Paravel,” Tirian agreed.

            “They are alike,” Lucy said, “and yet very different too. As Lysandra said of the southern slopes, these are bigger and have more color to them and they are more…more…oh I don’t know how to describe it!”

            “I think, Queen Lucy, that you mean to say they are more like the real thing,” Digory explained.

            Then Farsight the Eagle soared into the air and took a wide circle around. When he landed again he exclaimed with great excitement that the southern mountains were the mountains of Archenland and the western ones were the western border. From his height, he said, he could also see the northern moors, the Great River, and Cair Paravel glistening in the sun on the Eastern Sea.

            “This _is_ Narnia!” the Eagle said joyously.

            “But how can it be?” Peter asked. “Aslan told us older ones that we should never return to Narnia, and we saw it all destroyed a moment ago.”

            “It is like this, Peter,” Digory began. “When Aslan said you could never go back to Narnia, He meant the Narnia you were thinking of. But that was not the real Narnia. It was only a shadow or a copy of the real Narnia, of this Narnia.”

            Digory went on to explain in depth how the Narnia they knew was only a copy of the real Narnia just as the England they knew was only a copy of the real England, but Lysandra did not fully follow him. Nor, did she need to. From the moment the Eagle had said the southern mountains which she found so peculiar were indeed the mountains of Archenland, her great longing for the pastures of Hyrden was restored. _“She lives! Archenland Lives!”_ she thought. Lysandra’s hand slowly slipped from Edmund’s as she began walking towards Mount Pire. But as she walked she began to feel a purring in her chest as He called her elsewhere.

            “Lysandra?” Edmund’s voice rang out in question. When she turned to look back at him she saw that she had wandered quite a bit further than she realized and he had to jog over to her. He said nothing when he first arrived, but looked over her shoulder towards the mountains.

            “You wish to go home,” he said softly.

            “For years I have dreamed of sheep in pastures and a well worn road of dirt and clay to a great walled castle. For years I have longed to be among them.”

            “I know, and you’ve been so strong through it all. We will go there first, and visit the Cair later.”

            Lysandra smiled gleefully. “Oh Edmund, how sweet you are.” She stroked his cheek and kissed his lips softly before pulling back.

            “Someday we will do both,” she said. “But now there is a longing we both have that is greater still.” Lysandra took both of his hands in hers. Loud enough for all to hear she then said, “Come, He is waiting for us. We must go further up and further in!”

            Still holding Edmund’s hand Lysandra began running, not towards the mountains of Archenland, but towards the western mountains. The group all followed after them, but before long there were not following at all; rather, they were running alongside each other. Even Jewel the Unicorn, who was running properly, ran no faster than Poggin the Dwarf. To their great amazement they found that they never tired or ran short of breath, and as such they never wanted to stop.

            They did, however, come to a full stop when they reached the beginning of the Great River. The Great River of Narnia flowed from Cauldron Pool down to the Eastern Sea, and crashing into Cauldron Pool, from an enormous height, was the Great Waterfall. The Friends of Narnia, Tirian, Poggin, and Emeth all lined up, side-by-side, along the bank of the pool while the Beasts jumped in without hesitation. Together they watched as the Beasts began swimming towards the waterfall and then at last up the waterfall. Edmund, still hold holding Lysandra’s hand, turned to look at her as she gave a small gasp. He took in her parted lips and her wide eyes as she gazed at the Beasts swimming up the falls. He understood, or he thought he understood, at once and he gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

            “It’s all right,” he said. “I’m sure there’s a way to climb up. We needn’t swim.” Lysandra shook her head. “I’ll be with you the whole time,” he added.

            Lysandra smiled as she looked at him. “You misunderstand me, Edmund. The water, I—I can’t feel afraid. Even if I wanted to, I can’t. You will help though, won’t you?”

            “Of course!”

            And then Lysandra threw fear to the wind and jumped in. Edmund was right beside her. Many of the others had already jumped in and were swimming towards the falls. Jewel was in the lead and already well up the waterfall; his horn parted the water before him. It wasn’t long before Lysandra and Edmund were climbing or swimming up too and not long after that they were rounding the top. They then proceeded to swim towards the bank where Edmund helped her out. Once everyone stood on dry land again, now dripping wet though, they took off running once more, always they headed in the direction of the western mountains.

            They ran alongside the river, through winding valleys, and sprinted over the foothills. They passed tall, snow topped mountains and large blue lakes. They continued to run, never growing short of breath and never tiring, as the longing inside them grew stronger and stronger. At last they came to a lake bluer than all the others and a tall green hill. At the top of the hill there was a tall green wall of shrubbery and peeking over the wall were silver leaves and golden fruits. No one stopped when they reached the foot of the hill, but all ran straight up. Only when they reached the top did they stop once more, for they found themselves standing before a great golden gate.

            Just as they were all marveling at the entrance to what they knew must be a great garden, a horn, light and joyous, was blown on the inside and the gates swung open. Out stepped not a man but a mouse, a Mouse walking on its hind legs and wearing a gold circlet around one ear with a tall red feather. Those who knew him cried out his name at once and ran forward to shower him with hugs and kisses. After graciously receiving their greetings, the Mouse removed his circlet and bowed deeply and courteously before them all.  

            “Welcome, in the Lion’s name,” the Mouse Reepicheep said. “Come further up and further in.”

            Before any of them could move though others came through the golden gates to greet them. Edmund gently tapped Lysandra on the shoulder, a broad smile on his face as he pointed to a man very near the gate. Lysandra looked at the man curiously for a brief moment before she recognized him. He looked perhaps a bit older than when she last saw him, and yet he didn’t seem to be too much older than she was now. His dark hair hung to his shoulders, there was a stubbly beard on his chin, his eyes were full of mirth, and his smile was gentle and welcoming.

            “Caspian!” she cried out before running to him. Lysandra threw her arms around his neck; he caught her around the waist and swung her around before gently placing her feet back on the ground.

            “It has been many years, Lysandra, and how you have grown,” Caspian replied.

            “I suppose it has been a few years; though, more for you than me.”

            “Has it? One never knows how time works here. Edmund!” Lysandra stepped back allowing Edmund and Caspian to exchange their greeting hugs; they clapped each other loudly on the back.

            “You both remember Ramandu’s Daughter, yes?” Caspian asked once he and Edmund were done and Edmund had stepped back to stand beside Lysandra.

            “Yes, of course!” Lysandra exclaimed.

            “Well now I have the pleasure of introducing her as my wife.” Caspian beamed as he looked to his right where the Star’s Daughter stood.

            “It is great to see you again, and I must say you are as beautiful as I remember,” Edmund said.

            “Thank you. It is good to see you two as well,” she replied.

            “And our son, Ril—Oh where is that boy!” Caspian said as he turned to his left to find his son gone.

            “He’s just there, dear, greeting old friends of his own,” Caspian’s wife pointed out.

            “Rilian! Come here!” Caspian called to his son who came bounding over with Jill and Eustace in tow. “I would like for you to meet King Edmund the Just and one of my dearest friends…”

            “Lady Lysandra of Archenland,” Rilian finished for his father as he reached for Lysandra’s hand. “My father has told me much of your brave deeds, but he failed to mention your beauty properly.”

            Lysandra fought against the reddening of her cheeks but failed. “Hmm, yes, I can see the resemblance between father and son quite clearly. And I am very sorry for you,” she said to the Queen, “if he acted as much like his father as he looks.”

            The Star Queen laughed brightly. “You have no idea.” Caspian and Rilian gave identical smirks and Lysandra and the Queen laughed louder.

            “Yes, and like my father I gained a Queen to keep me in check.”

            “Oh please, don’t say that, Rilian, for when they see how you still act they will see my shortcomings,” said an auburn haired Queen as she came to stand between Rilian and Caspian.

            “My wife, Penelope,” Rilian introduced.

            “It’s a pleasure,” Edmund said.

            “The pleasure is mine, King Edmund and Lady Lysandra,” Penelope said. “But, please, may we continue this lovely reunion inside the garden?”

            “Oh yes please!” Lysandra exclaimed as she grabbed Edmund’s hand. “For I cannot stop this longing inside.”

            “And nor should you try,” Caspian replied. “Come, so that you may see His joy as well.”

            As they passed through the golden gates Edmund and Lysandra saw countless other old friends and war heroes. There was the captain of the beautiful and famed _Dawn Treader_ , Lord Drinian, and the crewmen Rhince and Rynelf. And there was Glenstorm and Trufflehunter, Trumpkin and Dr. Cornelius—whom Lysandra greeted most affectionately with a hug a kiss to each cheek. From a greater distance still there came two upright Beavers and a Faun. Edmund at once began pulling Lysandra away to greet Mr. and Mrs. Beaver and Tumnus; his brother and sister were already doing so themselves. While Edmund was exchanging words with his old friend Mr. Tumnus, Lysandra continued to look around at all the people and creatures. Suddenly she grabbed Edmund’s arm with great excitement.

            “Oh Edmund, look! It’s King Lune and his sons King Cor and Prince Corin and their wives. And beside them is perhaps the greatest Archenland King, King Ram the Great. Oh and look there, it can’t be…but surely it must be. It’s King Olvin who defeated the Giant Pire. Oh! And there is King Nain, too; he was very kind to me and…”

            But then Lysandra suddenly stopped talking as soon as she saw who was walking with King Nain and his family. Great tears filled her eyes and plopped quickly to ground beneath her feet. Lysandra dashed forward and threw her arms around the waist of a woman with long fair hair and startling green eyes. Edmund watched silently with joy and he needed no introduction for he saw the resemblance easily. He slowly made his way over, knowing this reunion had been a long time coming. At last Lysandra released the woman and Edmund stepped forward to make himself known.

            “It is a great pleasure to finally meet you, Lysan.”

            “Likewise, King Edmund. And I must thank you for taking such excellent care of my daughter for me.”

 

            Sometime later the whole gathering found themselves walking still further up and further in. Lucy had been looking over the wall and the land around them when she discovered, far off to her left, the real England, and standing on a train platform were her and Peter’s, and Edmund’s parents. Mr. Tumnus said the two countries would meet further up and further in. Lucy at once had wanted to move in and at that very moment King Frank’s horn was blown and everybody began moving in. As they walked Lucy noticed that the great gap which separated England from Narnia was growing narrower and narrower, and her parents were coming closer. Before she could quite get at them though, they came upon a very high mountain, the top of which could not be seen. The mountain was lined with several cliffs leading down, like a stairway, and bounding from cliff to cliff was the Lion, Aslan.

            As Aslan was bounding down the side of the mountain, Edmund suddenly turned to Lysandra and said, “I’m so sorry Lysandra. I should have married you years ago, when I first wanted to.”

            “Do not be sorry, Edmund; I am not,” Lysandra said. “There is nothing I would change about us. And besides, I do believe we have come into the Lion’s country after all. And here I do not think we shall ever be parted again.”

            “You mean to say, you think we’re…well, dead?”

            “Everyone else that we have met here has died before, why should it be any different with us?”

            “Then perhaps that is even more reason for me to have married you sooner?”

            “Does your traditional line not say ‘‘Til death do us part?’ As it is now though, even death cannot part us.”

            Edmund smiled and kissed the back of her hand. “You are right of course. You need never fear of us parting again.”

            Lysandra and Edmund then turned their eyes back to Aslan just as He was making His way over to them. “You do not yet look as happy as I mean for you to be,” He said.

            “Oh please, Aslan. We are all very happy it’s just…well, we are afraid you’ll send us back again. You have sent us back so many times before,” Lucy said.

            Aslan chuckled. “And where would I send you, my child? Lysandra has guessed rightly. There was a real railway accident. Your father and mother and all of you are—as you used to call it in the Shadowlands—dead. The dream has ended; this is the morning.”

            As Aslan spoke to them He seemed to change, and He no longer looked to them like a mere lion.

 

[1] _Matthew 25: 21_


End file.
